


haven't seen you (in a while)

by Joana789



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Future Fic, Gee those tags are so angsty, Getting Together, Growing Up, Happy Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I can finally say it for sure, I don't know, I'm actually wondering if I should make it a multi-chaptered thing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oh baby I'm sorry, POV Alternating, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tsukishima's an idiot, Yamaguchi's not really happy, i think, ok the multi-chaptered stuff is official, tagging is hard, they both are, this thing is a bit undone or at least it might look like it, weird taaags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joana789/pseuds/Joana789
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been years since they last saw each other, and when they meet, it turns out awkward and strange. Yamaguchi doesn't really mind, though.<br/>Tsukki's always been unique. That's the thing that will never change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It turned out a bit longer than I originally intended it to be. This is my first work when it comes to Tsukishima/Yamaguchi relationship so I'm sorry if they seem a little out of character! (but, at the same time, it's kinda required by the story...) Also, I'm wondering if I should make it a longer thing, I don't know, let me know what you think.  
> Constructive criticism appreciated. And sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> Update: Okay, so since so many of you seem to be interested in the story, I decided to make it a multi-chaptered thing. You'll need to wait a couple of days for the next part but I hope you'll like it as much as you liked this one. Huge thanks for the amazing feedback, guys, it means a world to me!

It’s a rather normal day.

Yamaguchi wakes up before his alarm clock goes off – he’s used to getting up early so even though it’s Saturday, he can’t force himself to sleep more than six hours. The apartment is quiet, calm, the atmosphere of a lazy morning perceptible in the air. He yawns, rubs his eyes and then stretches, sitting up.

He’s alone, he remembers a few minutes later when he goes downstairs and sees a note on the kitchen table. It reads: “ _Eat properly and don’t stay up too late, honey. We will be back on Monday._ ” The message is written in his mother’s handwriting.

Right. She left to see a doctor in Osaka, after all, along with his father. Tadashi rubs his eyes, trying to hold back a yawn. The kitchen looks weird, silent when he enters, but it’s fine, he sure can use some more privacy once in a while. After opening the fridge, he realises that it’s almost completely empty – apparently, he wasn’t the only person who forgot to do the shopping yesterday. Tadashi’s suddenly sleepy, more than he should be, and for a split second he actually considers going back to bed since he can’t make breakfast anyway. The hunger turns out to be stronger than laziness, though – it makes him go to the bathroom, take a shower, get dressed and finally leave.

 _The shop’s nearby_ , Yamaguchi thinks. _I’ll be back in a minute_.

The air is cold, so cold he shivers, locking the door and quickly heading down the street. It was raining at night – the pavement looks a shade darker than usual, and the ground still seems damp. He inhales the scent of the wet grass, smiling lightly. Passing by the people on the street – it’s quite surprising to see that many of them outside so early (and on Saturday) – he wonders where his parents might be right now. Osaka’s a bit far from their town, and his mother never really liked how loud and crowded it was. It’s not about what she prefers, though – and it doesn’t matter that Tadashi doesn’t like it when his parents are away because it always makes him worried. He looks around, planning to cross the street.

And then he sees him.

Yamaguchi nearly stumbles, taken aback. Noticing him is as easy as it gets – the boy towers over all the passers-by. At first, Yamaguchi just looks, stares, even; they haven’t seen each other in ages after all, and it feels pretty weird to see Tsukki just like that, out of nowhere, in the middle of the town.

He’s changed a bit, Tadashi notices. Tsukishima seems even taller now, all dark clothes and serious, his hair a bit longer and eyes cold, warning behind these glasses of his. He’s handsome, more than Yamaguchi remembered him to be, and it makes him gasp, even though he instantly remembers he shouldn’t do that now. It’s not like there’s something weird about seeing Tsukishima Kei in his hometown anyway.

There shouldn’t be, at least.

Someone almost runs into him, and that’s when Tadashi finally realizes he’s been standing in the middle of the sidewalk for a while now. The boy snaps out of his thoughts and picks up the pace, he cannot ignore the fact that his heart beats a bit faster than it should, though. Tsukishima didn’t notice him, and now Yamaguchi sees him walking away.

Not many years ago, he would follow him with a loud “Tsukki!” on his lips – he supposes that’s why he suddenly feels this strange urge to do so. And he almost starts running, still looking at Tsukishima’s blonde hair standing out in the flood of dark heads surrounding them. He almost yells to the boy to _wait, slow down!_ because otherwise he won’t be able to get to him. The words form on his lips as he inhales and…

And remembers to calm down. He was only supposed to do some shopping, not to run after a guy he hasn’t seen in years.

Yamaguchi closes his slightly parted lips, turning left, and stuffs his hands into his pockets.

For some reason, the air suddenly feels even colder than before.

 

A bit careless person he is, Yamaguchi tries not to think about it too much.

 _It’s fine_ , he reminds himself quietly in the back of his head, _we used to be really close, after all._

Tsukishima knew him, and he knew Tsukishima like no one else did. He cherished his sharp sense of humour, the way he looked when he was excited, small habits Tsukki was never really aware of, like adjusting his glasses when uncomfortable or tapping some rhythm with his middle finger when something – or someone – bored him.

He wonders if Tsukki still does that.

The shop is as quiet as ever – Mrs. Narumi smiles at him when she sees him, and Yamaguchi greets her. It’s slightly warmer here, inside of the small building, and he shivers because of the difference of the temperatures. The shopping is quick –Tadashi really _is_ hungry – and he only picks up some basic things, not being in the mood for anything especially fancy. He’ll be cooking just for himself anyway.

He buys the stuff with a murmured “Thank you” and is about to exit the shop, when bumps into someone.

It’s not really painful although, at the same time, not entirely harmless, either. Tadashi winces, opening his mouth to apologize, but doesn’t get the chance.

“Yamaguchi?”

He knows the voice. He’s known it for half of his life.

It’s the sound he used to like so much; it brings the memories of easiness, this vague feeling of calm. It makes him blush slightly, in spite of himself.

He doesn’t have to look up to know that it’s Tsukishima but he does so anyway.

“Hi, Tsukki.”

His own voice, so unlike the boy’s in front of him, seems too weak.

Or pathetic, the blonde would say.

“It’s so good to see you! How are you, Tsukki?” he asks right away, despite this strange tone is his voice, knowing that the other won’t bother to ask first just _because_ – there are things that are not likely to change.

Tsukki just looks at him for a few seconds – it’s a bit weird. Maybe he wonders why Yamaguchi doesn’t really seem surprised to see him after all this time. Maybe, Tadashi admits, he should’ve pretended to be at least a little startled.

“I’m fine,” the blonde finally answers, though. Yamaguchi finds himself smiling at that.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he says – and he really is happy. “How is the university going? I bet your grades are the highest, aren’t they? I don’t really know how it is there, in the big city, but I think I couldn’t get used to it, you know. I have no idea how you managed.”

Tsukishima just shrugs, but Tadashi’s blabbering puts him at ease somehow – at least it looks like it. The blond looks away for a second, but his gaze is on Yamaguchi’s face again before the latter realizes that it’s been gone at all.

“University’s still fine. Not much harder than before,” comes a reply. Short and direct but honest as well. He adjusts his glasses. “How are your parents?”

“They’re…”

 _Away_ is the first thing Yamaguchi wants to say, for some reason, but then he remembers that it’s not important. Tsukki wants to know if they’re okay, not whether they’re in town or somewhere else.

“They’re alright. My mom would be glad that you’re asking.”

Tsukki clears his throat, and Yamaguchi knows what he’s about to say.

“And your father?” the boy mutters, as expected.

He manages to smile at that, too, even though it’s a bit more difficult.

“Dad’s better,” he responds. He wants to tell him something more at first – about the fact that his parents left to see the doctor because the results had recently started to get better or maybe that mom looked a bit less worried every other day.

But then he decides not to say anything. Mainly because it would probably get a bit awkward, since this subject was still weird to talk about to Tsukki – he’s sure both of them remember this particular fight they had had before his friend left. Besides, Yamaguchi isn’t sure if the blonde really wants to listen to all of that – he leads a different life now, the one that doesn’t have Yamaguchi Tadashi in it, not to mention his father.

Tsukishima still looks at him and, Tadashi thinks, even though the frames of his glasses are the same, the brown eyes behind them are not.

It really is getting a bit awkward, and the bag full of food is starting to get heavy in Yamaguchi’s grasp.

“So, how long are you planning to stay?” he finally asks when it becomes obvious that - for some reason he doesn’t know - Tsukishima will not say anything, “Because you haven’t been there lately, right?”

Hearing his suspicious but playful tone, Tsukki shakes his head.

“No, I haven’t,” he agrees, a light smile on his lips, “I’ll probably stay for a couple of weeks. My mother threatened that she would drag me here herself if I didn't come in the nearest future.”

Yamaguchi giggles. _That makes sense._

“And also,” the boy continues, hiding his hands in his pockets – Yamaguchi nearly forgot how cold it was, too involved in their a bit uneasy but still pleasant conversation – “I kind of missed the place.”

There’s this strange feeling in his chest when he sees the spark of something in Tsukki’s eyes. Yamaguchi tries his best not to blush, even though he has no particular reason to.

“Yeah, it’s been quite a while,” he admits.

Quite a while since they saw each other. Since Tsukki left to go to the university, and Yamaguchi stayed here because he _couldn’t_ leave. Since they had this fight that ended pretty much everything.

But Tadashi promised himself that not to think about it long ago. He wants to keep that promise.

It’s cold, he thinks, and he still hasn’t eaten breakfast. It is time to go, no matter how good it feels, somewhere deep inside, to talk to Tsukki again. No matter how much he likes hearing his voice and looking in these calm eyes of his.

So, before he lets himself change his mind, Tadashi speaks.

“Well,” he kind of sighs, trying to sound optimistic, though, “sorry, but I think I should be going now. I’m freezing. It was nice to see you again, Tsukki!”

Part of him wants Tsukishima to say something – to stop him and suggest “Maybe we could grab a coffee?”. He knows this is not going to happen, but he’s already learned that he always gets his hopes up too high. Years ago, he would've proposed that himself, but Tsukki isn’t the only person who changed a bit.

Besides, Yamaguchi still remembers what Tsukishima told him during that fight and, bearing that in mind, it would feel wrong to try to get his attention again. The blonde made it clear that Yamaguchi was nothing but bothersome – thinking about these words seemed bitter in a way, even now. That’s why he stopped calling at some point; stopped texting and asking how the university was going – it just felt wrong to bother Tsukishima when he was so busy and Tadashi, even though he never really stopped caring, no matter what he told himself, figured it would be better to give him some more space.

It’s not like he _didn’t know_ that – he was aware of how tiring it must’ve felt to Tsukishima to put up with him sometimes, this loud, irritating person Yamaguchi was.

But over time he almost managed to forget just how different they are – how Tsukki is always taller, more collected, _better_ – not only when it comes to the appearance but also the grades, volleyball and everything, really, while Tadashi is… himself. He’s not complaining – he got used to the thought that he’ll never be as awesome as Tsukishima. It’s only that now, when they see each other again, the difference hits him hard.

Especially when Tsukki doesn’t say anything but simple “Okay.”

“See you later, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi smiles.

Tsukishima looks as if he’s hesitating – it’s just a split second – but then he just nods and mutters a goodbye.

Yamaguchi turns around and heads down the street.

 

The walk back home is silent and plain, the bag in Yamaguchi’s hand heavier and heavier every second, so when he finally closes the door of his house with a dull sound, he’s surprised not to be relieved.

He starts preparing breakfast but halfway through Tadashi becomes aware of the fact that he’s not really hungry anymore, even though he was starving just half an hour ago. His hands are trembling a bit – at first, he supposes it’s the fault of standing in the cold.

It’s when he notices the lump in his throat that makes him realize it’s something entirely different.

Tadashi blankly stares at the kitchen table in front of him, biting his lip.

He thought he’s gotten over it by now.That he left it behind – the feelings, the struggle, the _hope_ , even if it sounded cheesy. Tsukishima left and he didn’t - that was it. They parted a long time ago. Yamaguchi is a different person now, and so is Tsukki.

 _I wonder if he has a girlfriend_ , he thinks. Or a boyfriend, maybe, someone how would smile at him and laugh at his sharp jokes just like Yamaguchi once did. Someone who would appreciate his small hints of affection, his composure and intelligence.

It is fair for Tsukki to have a person like that, even though the thought makes Yamaguchi’s breath uneven. He wouldn’t hold it against him – he has no right to. It doesn’t matter that they have known each other for almost twelve years now; that Tadashi's found Tsukishima so incredibly awesome from the very beginning.

It’s just…

It’s just that maybe he’ll never really get over it.

Twelve years, he thinks, is a long time to be in love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda like the way it turned out, even though my German and Polish homework suffered because of that. Hope you'll enjoy!  
> Sorry for any mistakes, I'll get rid of them tomorrow, hopefully, when I'll be checking the thing once again.

 

 

The time seems to pass a bit slower here.

Tsukishima doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s thanks to the cold chill that’s perceptible in the air every morning or the fact that he doesn’t have to set his alarm clock when he goes to sleep, and the thought alone almost makes him grin every single time. Chances are, it’s because of his mother’s bright smile he, somewhere deep inside, is happy to see. Maybe it’s the fact that nothing has really changed here – or rather no one.

Almost no one.

Kei huffs, irritated and tries to focus on the text in front of him again. He turns the page, then comes back to the previous one, reads the  first paragraph – only to realize that he doesn’t understand a single word. He does have a break and some spare time, yes, but _has_ to read the book anyway – besides, he’s sure that information about _amyotrophic lateral sclerosis_ is actually the thing he’s bound to find useful in the future.

But Tsukishima cannot focus, damn it.

He didn’t even want to come here at first. He was good where he was earlier, in his small but neat apartment in Tokyo, close to the university, which was, to be honest, all that mattered he's not an outgoing person anyway. Other people annoy him – he still preferrs staying in his four walls rather than make himself go somewhere with them and pretend that he’s actually having fun. Besides, he has had a lot on his plate lately. He only came to Miyagi because his mother asked him – and by asked he means forced.

But now, when he thinks about it, Kei cannot bring himself to regret the decision.

The blonde closes the book with a loud “thud”, exhaling and feeling exasperation building up in his stomach. There’s no use anyway. He doesn’t understand a bloody word so what’s the point in _trying_?

He’s not a sentimental type. He’s never considered himself one. He’s calm and collected, sarcastic, harsh, mean, even – anything but sentimental.

So why is he thinking about _him_ again?

About Yamaguchi Tadashi, the guy he’s known his whole life. The guy who always called him “Tsukki” and was so unbearably irritating sometimes. The boy who smiled so bright, who followed Tsukishima everywhere, without a second thought or hesitation, even when he wasn’t asked to.

It’s been three days since he bumped into Yamaguchi in front of that grocery store. He did wonder if the boy was still in town, he admits, but it was still a surprise to see him after such a long time.

His first though was that Yamaguchi grew a bit – and not only when it comes to height but also to the general maturity. His demeanour seemed off and even though Kei couldn’t spot the exact difference, he knew it was there, somewhere in his eyes and the way he said his name.

Nobody called him “Tsukki” except for Yamaguchi.

The conversation was weird and awkward – he could see the boy trembling because of how cold it was, he noticed this tiny spark of the feeling he couldn’t recognise when Yamaguchi saw him smiling and even though he wanted to believe that he still knew this guy in front of him, with his ruffled brown hair and incredible freckles on his skin, something kept telling him that it was not really true anymore.

That’s why he didn’t stop him when Yamaguchi finally sighed and decided to head back home – it didn’t matter that he wanted to because it was always the other boy who made the first move, never Tsukishima. And Kei was comfortable with it, of course. But…

But maybe – just maybe – when the suggestion of meeting and catching up never left Yamaguchi’s mouth, he felt a tiny bit of disappointment.

Like the disappointment he felt back then when Yamaguchi stopped calling. And disappointment he hates.

He gets that, obviously. He knows just why this freckled moron stopped.  Tsukishima’s not stupid and, even though he _was_ angry at his friend when the latter left him just like that, he understands the position Yamaguchi suddenly found himself in back then. He never demanded that Tadashi leave his parents - his father - for him, that would be insane.

Tsukishima sighs, taking his glasses off and officially abandoning his book. Yamaguchi is a pain in the ass, he decides, just like he’s always been. He just can’t leave him alone, can he? - even when he’s not around.

He was not around in Tokyo, either, but what does it matter? Tsukishima was alone there, in his small apartment, and it didn’t stop him from _thinking_ at all, which was, to be honest, much worse. When Yamaguchi was next to him, he could at least tell him to shut up. But his own brain? That was, ironically, something he could not silence.

And, in spite of what everyone says, Tsukishima does have feelings. He may not show them that often, but they are still _here_. Yamaguchi was pretty much the only person who could recognise his mood in an instant, and even though it was really irritating sometimes, this ability of his was also the thing Kei begun to cherish at some point. He liked it - how Yamaguchi just looked at him and _knew_.

Tsukishima has to supress the sudden urge to scream as he realizes, a bitter smile on his lips, that these days are over.

 

He’s learned long ago that music is not always helpful. Not when he, for instance, tries to study late at night, his room dark and books scattered all over the desk. It is usually nearly a salvation when his mind is too overloaded, though.

But now it’s useless. Or rather it has to be – he knows his mother would kill him if he used his headphones during their official _“welcome home, son”_ dinner.

Tsukishima can’t stop thinking just how much he hates this stuff.

It’s been three days since he came back, for fuck’s sake. His parents've had more than enough time to greet him, and his mother still thinks that this dinner is a splendid idea. So they dress up in fancy clothes, making him do the same and then set off to one of the only two decent restaurants in this town.

Right now, Tsukishima is sitting at the table, the tablecloth not-so-white and food barely satisfactory, both his father and mother seem to enjoy their meals, though, so the blonde just sips his tea, deciding not to say anything and listening to his mom’s chatter.

It’s nothing particularly interesting – just some stories about what's been happening during these three years when Kei wasn't around, a dose of simple, everyday troubles his parents have to deal with, mentions of his brother, complaints and jokes and much more. It is a bit tiring to listen to all this stuff, Kei says nothing, though, doing his best to enjoy.

And then the name peals out. Kei raises his head to see his mother smiling at him.

“Since you’re in town, I’m sure he’d be glad to see you again, Kei.”

It’s Yamaguchi again. Everything always focuses on Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima can’t even bring himself to be surprised about it anymore.

“Yeah,” he agrees, ever so reluctantly, while his father’s phone suddenly rings; the man excuses himself and leaves to answer it, “Maybe.”

His parents aren’t exactly the people he’d like to discuss his relationship with Yamaguchi with, really. They know that their son and his friend had a fight and that Yamaguchi couldn’t go to Tokyo because of his father’s condition, but that’s it. They have no idea that it was Yamaguchi who stopped calling but Tsukishima was the one who fucked the whole thing up.

And Kei does _know_.

He said some really nasty things back then. Being a rather collected person, he thought he’d handle it, but everything just blew up that night. He knew that Yamaguchi had already made a decision but still, it felt- _he_ felt…

Betrayed, somehow. They were supposed to go to Tokyo together, and when Yamaguchi called it off, it made his vision go hazy for a second. Tsukishima knew it wasn’t Yamaguchi’s fault, it wasn’t, really. That didn’t help, though, so Tsukishima started defending himself, doing what he was the best at.

“Kei?”

He blinks, realizing that his mother is saying something, and he has no idea what it is so he just looks at her like an idiot.

“When do you plan to meet?” she repeats, a bit slower than she needs to. The blonde huffs.

“We don’t.”

His voice sounds as usual but there’s a hint of unnatural tightness to it. His mother catches it, and her gaze softens.

“Oh,” she says, suddenly quieter.

Tsukishima wants to say something in order to change the subject, but he’s never been good at talking so he just sits there, trying not to look at his mother because there’s something in her eyes which tells him that she might know just what exactly is happening with him now.

“Still,” she starts after a few seconds of silence, “I really think you should see each other.”

“We did already,” he snaps back, his voice sounding harsher than he intends it to, but the lump in his throat doesn’t want to disappear. “I bumped into him the other day.”

She just raises an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I mean, honey.”

“I know.”

He wouldn’t call it a proper meeting, either. Still, he shrugs, trying to brush it off and look nonchalant, when he grasps his cup, though, he discovers that his hand is shaking.

“How did it go, then?” his mother asks, furrowing her brows.

“It was fine,” comes the response, Tsukishima thinks that it’s not entirely true, though. “Yamaguchi is as irritating and loud as ever, no need to worry about him.”

He waits for something like, maybe, a clichéd _“It’s not him I am worried about, Kei,”_ buthis mother just eyes him. As he realizes a second later, it is even worse.

He feels like a five-year old.

The woman runs a hand through her hair, but her expression is a bit sad, and it almost confirms what the blonde has been thinking. She knows, somehow – he has no idea how, but she’s aware of the fact that her son is not happy.

And then, before he can protest, she touches his hand – gently, softly and it sends shivers down his spine as well as results in sparks of embarrassment and irritation appearing in his chest. He’s not a touchy kind of person, and his mother, an intelligent woman, knows that as well. The sensation of skin on skin vanishes before Tsukishima can even react.

“He works at the book shop nearby, next to the florist’s,” she says quietly, “And I don’t think he changed his phone number, Kei.”

And that’s it. After that, his father finally comes back, and his mother changes the subject to a neutral one; some time later they finally decide to leave – and they do so. It’s already dark outside, the air cold, reminding him of the snow which is nowhere to be seen yet.

 

He’s tired but can’t sleep.

Tsukishima just lies in his bed, still at first and weirdly restless later, turning from side to side, checking the hour on his phone (it’s a bit harder to see the numbers when he’s not wearing glasses, but Kei manages anyway) and doing his best to just _fall asleep, damn it_ , because tomorrow is a day as well, and he still has to read that book or do something in general, really, before he loses his sanity. He hates these moments – it feels somewhat odd, in a bad sense, listening to his own, even breathing, staring into the dark, trying not to think about anything in particular. He’s experienced that many times now, more than he’d like to, and even though it made him a bit more resistant, at the same time he also became more vulnerable.

When his parents asked him about his life as an adult – an individual person now – he told them many things; that cooking was a little harder than he expected (his mother laughed at that), that the studying was tiring but also pretty challenging; about the people he had met and places he had visited. It was enough to make his parents satisfied with the answers and happy – their son is doing so well, after all. They were pretty worried about that, they admitted, and Tsukishima couldn’t help but scowl, saying “I can’t believe you doubted that.”

What he didn’t tell them, though, was what bothered him in this whole seemingly great situation. Tsukishima did not even say a word about how being _alone_ felt. Without Yamaguchi around.

Because at first, it had been calm – without Yamaguchi babbling all the time, without this loud chatter of his. The apartment had seemed peaceful, especially in the mornings when Kei had listened to the cars rumbling outside, barely audible when the windows were closed and irritatingly noisy when open. The atmosphere, the feeling of being on his own had appeared to be a good one most of the time.

But then it had begun to change from _fine_ into _weird_.

Strange had waking up been - in the empty room, in this empty flat. Coming back, muttering _I’m home_ and being aware that no one will answer. Looking at the phone screen just to check the hour and realizing that the device had been silent for the last few days. Cooking meals for only one person, _being_ the only person around.

So, at some point, _weird_ had turned into _lonely_.

Tsukishima rubs his eyes, doing his best to ignore an unusual tightness building up behind his sternum. He reaches for his phone once again, the brightness of light nearly blinding, but the blonde tries to shrug it off. It’s 2:07 AM.

His mother said that Yamaguchi hadn’t changed his phone number, and this single information made Kei freak out. He knew that, Yamaguchi used to call him, after all, but still, the words sounded like an encouragement. Tsukishima’s a proud person, chances are even cheeky, and he is not the one to make the first move just _because_. This is not what he does, not how he deals with things – that feature of his will never change, he suspects. That’s likely.

And despite knowing that, he finds himself typing a message. It’s a ridiculous, desperate _I’m sorry, Yamaguchi_ at first, but then he deletes it, huffing. The next one is a bit better – _I need to see you_ – but it’s still not neutral enough so Tsukishima gets rid of that rubbish as well. At the third one, on the other hand, he stares for a good couple of seconds. It’s just a plain _I think we should meet_. It’s pretty good, he thinks. Suits him, so blunt and simple.

Kei hesitates, gazing at the letters. Closes his eyes for a moment.

And then deletes the message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the idea of Tsukishima and his mother having this kind of relationship. Also, it was fun, writing this POV. Tsukki is a jerk but does it matter? I don't think so. He has some serious issues when it comes to dealing with his feelings.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are getting longer and longer...  
> Sorry for any mistakes, I admit I checked that but, since I don't have a beta, it's kind of difficult for me to catch any errors. I won't pass my Polish test tomorrow because I was writing this instead of learning. I hope you'll enjoy, though. Hardly anything is happening in this chapter but I don't know, I like this kind of slow pace.

 

 

Working at the bookshop is one of the few things he finds relaxing, most of the time.

Not always, obviously. From time to time, the clients are rude, and he has to grit his teeth in order to stop himself from asking them to leave the place; his boss, Mrs. Ayaka, is mad at him sometimes, usually when he breaks something or makes a mistake (Yamaguchi does this a lot less now, comparing to the number of accidents happening in the past, but they still _do_ occur) the atmosphere is pretty friendly most of the time, though. So Tadashi doesn’t complain – there’s no reason to, besides, even though he doesn’t make particularly a lot of money, it’s enough. Pretty good, he would say, considering that he actually manages to do something he likes; he helps other people, interacts with them and feels _happy_ to do so.

Most of the time.

Because today is not that kind of simple, usual day, although that’s all Yamaguchi wants, really. It’s been ages – or at least it feels like it, time obstinately slow – since he felt normal, even though he knows just a few days passed. Yamaguchi tries not to worry about it, that’s not the way he is.

Easier said than done, though.

He sighs, the sound barely audible even for him and then forces a smile, noticing that someone entered the shop. People seem to like this place pretty much – or, rather, they don’t really have a choice. Yamaguchi grins at the thought but only for a second because the client – a woman - comes up to him, clearly planning on asking something.

“How can I help you?” Tadashi says, politely and hospitably.

The customer is looking for some history books so Yamaguchi leads her to the right shelf, his steps sure but a bit too loud in the quiet room. She thanks him, and he just nods, smiling once again as he says “You’re welcome.”

When he turns around, the smile vanishes.

And he doesn’t want to be rude or anything, it’s just that smiling has been a bit difficult recently, more than he remembered it to be. Maybe, he thinks, he’s a little tired, the work and his father and all, but at the same time, Yamaguchi’s not really convinced that it’s the issue.

He leans against the counter, closing his eyes for a second.

He hasn’t felt this weird since Tsukishima left. Ironically, now, when he’s back, even if only for a few days, Yamaguchi feels as if he was in a square one or rather as if it was a déjà vu – the situation is the same. He’s already experienced it before.

He can’t bring himself to be unmoved about it.

“Yamaguchi-kun?”

He flinches, startled, even though the voice is pleasant and quite expected to be heard here. When he opens his eyes, Hana’s in front of him, trying to look him in the face in this appealing manner of hers – Tadashi’s already gotten used to it by now so, instead of feeling uncomfortable, he looks up at her, raising his head and hoping that his face looks at least a bit friendly.

Hana looks a lot like her mother – dark hair, big eyes and small lips, graceful moves; claiming that she’s not pretty would be a lie - but their attitudes towards Yamaguchi are rather different. Mrs. Ayaka’ s stern, a bit strict – it’s fine, the boy thinks, because, in the same time, she’s a quite likeable woman; her daughter, on the other hand, gets on with Yamaguchi really well. She sometimes comes to the shop in her spare time to help a bit; Hana’s younger than him, it doesn’t seem to bother her in the least, though, and Yamaguchi’s not really complaining, either. Talking to her is one of the easier things to do lately. She’s loud, eager to help and a bit clumsy, just like Yamaguchi.

“Hi, Hana,” he says as he straightens up, “How are you doing?”

Hana’s usually a rather talkative person, not less than Yamaguchi himself, but now she remains silent for a second more than she normally would, and it makes the boy think that this guise of his wasn’t really good, then.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, tilting her head like an overly curious child, and it’s only a confirmation.

“Sure,” Yamaguchi replies, looking her straight in the eye. That seems to be pretty convincing – Hana doesn’t know him well enough to know if he’s telling the truth or not and, even though the girl raises an eyebrow, she’s smiling at him a second later.

“Came to help a bit,” she says, answering the question Yamaguchi didn’t get the chance to ask yet, “but I think I’m not particularly needed here, am I? You’re dealing with all the stuff pretty well.”

“There’s not much to deal with, to be honest,” he says, shrugging.

Hana snorts, looking around the shop. Except the two of them, the only people inside are a couple of high school students laughing behind one of the shelves, a middle-aged man heading to the door and the woman looking for a history book. It’s getting pretty late, he realises, probably around 7 PM by now.

“Where’s Mrs. Ayaka?” he asks – the woman usually shows up here at least once a day, and Yamaguchi hasn’t seen her today yet.

“Oh,” Hana says, tucking her hair behind her ear, “She had to stay at home today, I think she’s not feeling well.”

Too bad, Yamaguchi thinks but doesn’t say anything, only nods letting Hana know that he got it. He can feel the girl’s eyes at him, but she remains silent as well. Then, one of the high school students comes up to the counter to pay, and Tadashi does everything just right, smiles, thanks, gives him his change, Hana observing but not asking until the customer leaves the shop along with his friends and the girl’s patience is run out.

“What is it, Yamaguchi?” she says, a bit louder than needed, Yamaguchi just shrugs, though.

“What? Everything’s fine.”

Hana pouts.

“Is it your father?”

Tadashi shakes his head.

“No. It’s nothing.”

He’s not lying. Everything’s just fine. He’s felt a bit under the weather because of Tsukishima and his own stupid expectations but his dad’s health is slowly getting better so there’s no reason to feel bad. He doesn’t have to worry about his family so much anymore. Everything is looking up, isn’t it?

Hana opens her mouth to say something again, but then the door to the shop open – a cold breeze makes Yamaguchi shiver – and she turns her head to greet the client, even though she does so a bit reluctantly.

The impatience on her face is visible only for a second; a moment later it turns into admiration. Her eyes lit up a bit.

“Hello!” she welcomes the customer, more eager than usual so Yamaguchi forces a smile, too, relieved that she dropped the subject of his supposed problems.

The relief doesn’t last very long, though.

 _I should’ve expected that_ , he thinks, his body suddenly tense. He could’ve predicted that, it wasn’t a hard thing to do, it was _logical_.

But it’s unbelievable – just how lucky he is.

Tsukki eyes Hana in a way he used to look at all the girls who confessed to him back in high school - Hana doesn’t seem to notice all the contempt, but Yamaguchi does. It almost makes him giggle because finding another constant feature of Tsukishima turns out to be very enjoyable, chances are more than it should, really. He probably already has a girlfriend, he want to tell Hana, or a boyfriend, there’s no use. He came there to buy a book, not to flirt with you so don’t bother, he wants to tell her.

But he doesn’t. He just says “Hi, Tsukki.”

Hana looks at him with surprise – _How is it possible that someone like you knows someone like him?_ , the spark in her eyes says. Tsukishima seems to notice the boy just now, shifting his gaze to him. His steps are firm but not really loud when he comes up to the counter, white headphones around his neck and hands in his pockets.

“Yamaguchi,” he says simply, and Yamaguchi wonders if he is actually surprised to see him here or not really. Tadashi can see Hana frowning next to him, which, this time, really makes him chuckle.

“How can I help you?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. Tsukishima raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” the blonde admits, but there’s something weird in the way he looks at him while saying that. Yamaguchi wonders if he should doubt the words but then he decides not to.

“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his hair and realising how dense it sounded so he instantly tries to cover it up with blabbering, “I mean, it’s a nice place, and I quite like it. I think I’m pretty good at working here since it’s not really difficult or anything, and there’s not much to mess up, you know? Hana’s a good company and a help, too, so, yeah, everything’s pretty fine most of the time.”

Tsukki scowls, looking at Hana again – the girl seems to be relieved that Yamaguchi mentioned her, and she grins at the blonde, using the prettiest of her smiles and probably hoping that it would work. It would, Yamaguchi admits, when it comes to everyone _but_ Tsukishima.

The blonde turns his gaze away with an impatient sigh. Tadashi realises that the boy must’ve come here because of _something_ , obviously, and, most likely, that something is much more important than his stupid chatter, so he asks again, “So, why are you here?”

Tsukki looks as if he’s not entirely sure himself – it’s just a split second, and Yamaguchi bets Hana didn’t notice a thing (or rather he _hopes so_ , for some reason) but then Tsukishima nods and hands him a piece of paper – neatly folded and white. It turns out to be a title of a book, as he supposes.

It strikes him, how long it has been since he’s seen Tsukki’s handwriting.

“Do you have that in here?” he asks, and it makes Yamaguchi focus on the blonde again, not his own unnecessary expectations.

Hana reads the title before he gets the chance to, and she’s typing it into the computer within seconds.

“We do, “ she answers, lifting her gaze. Yamaguchi manages to finally read the title – it’s something about _Peripheral Neuropathy_ , long and not entirely clear, “Wow, why do you even need such things?”

Tsukishima doesn’t look like he’s planning on answering the question so Yamaguchi does it instead of him.

“He studies medicine,” he says and, in spite of himself, he discovers that his voice sounds somewhat proud.

“Really?” Hana’s eyes widen, “That’s cool!”

 _It is, right?_ , he wants to say - but then his gaze meets Tsukishima’s, and the words disappear. There’s a spark of something in there, something Yamaguchi can’t really describe, but the very spark vanishes when Yamaguchi blinks. Hana’s still saying something, and Tsukki clicks his tongue, probably irritated with this pointless blabbering of hers so Yamaguchi decides to end it.

“I’ll bring you the book, okay?” he says. Hana looks at him with a smile, probably thinking he’s doing that so she can _talk_ to Tsukishima, but it’s not like that.

It’s not, Yamaguchi knows that. He wonders, leaving them and heading to the right shelf, if Tsukki knows that, too, but then realises that’s not likely.

He shouldn’t act so weird, think so much. There is nothing to think about anyway. He has a right to be proud of his friend. Pride is a good feeling.

The thing is, it’s not only pride Yamaguchi’s feeling now.

He exhales, trying to focus on the books in front of him and on finding the right one, but he kind of feels like he’s about to cry any moment. He can’t let that happen, obviously, so Tadashi just grits his teeth, trying to ignore his ragged breathing.

He never expected him to stay. Tsukki had a bright future in front of him, all he needed to do was to reach for it. Living in a small town wasn’t for him – he deserved something more, something _better_. Yamaguchi could stay because he belonged here, with his weird freckles, messy hair and clumsy personality, but he _never expected Tsukishima to stay here_.

In the same time, though, he kind of did.

Because Tsukki was leaving him, suddenly, he blamed Yamaguchi for what was happening – Tadashi knew that, the blonde made it clear enough. He didn’t know what to think – wasn’t sure how to act when his small world was slowly falling apart and, of that he was certain, it would eventually collapse.

It did collapse when Tsukki left, just as expected.

But Yamaguchi wasn’t allowed to show anything, he had his mother to take care of, had to provide the money his father now couldn’t; had to man up immediately and become an adult even though he was not ready. Tadashi was still a teen back then, simple, careless and in love – he wanted to stay up late, spend time with his friends (and Tsukki, Tsukki alone would be all he needed), play volleyball, even learn. He wanted to be selfish, to think only about himself, even if only for a day.

But Tadashi couldn’t.

He was scared, but it didn’t matter anymore – that he couldn’t sleep at night, staring at the ceiling and trying to brush off this irrational dread in his chest. He spent hours wondering what Tsukki was doing – if he was out with someone or learning or simply sleeping. Tadashi wanted to see him. To talk to him again, to say that what happened had been wrong, but they could just let it go.

Yet, still, after so much time, he couldn’t bring himself to forget a word.

Forget just how _in love_ he was with Tsukki.

Tadashi realises that there’s nothing but silence in the store – Hana must’ve finally given up – so he snaps out of it, finds the book and comes back to the two of them. Tsukishima seems relieved to see him, somehow, or at least it looks like it.

“Here you go,” he says a bit apologetically, “Sorry it took so long.”

Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, and neither does Hana so Tadashi supposes his face looks normal, not so tense as he feels inside. Tsukki buys the book, scowling at it a little, and Yamaguchi can’t help but wish him good luck.

“I hope I won’t need it,” the blonde says, and the other boy giggles.

Hana wishes him good luck, too, and Tsukishima just shoots a glance at her – Yamaguchi could swear there’s anger in these usually cold eyes of his – but then he just nods, mutters a goodbye and leaves. Quickly, rapidly.

“Who _was_ that guy?” Hana raises her eyebrows, looking at him expectantly.

Tadashi wants to say _my friend_ at first, but it feels wrong. _Tsukishima Kei, a guy I used to know_. _We used to know each other._

_I’ve been in love with him for ages._

And that thought alone makes him realise – there are some things he cannot change.

But there are also some he _can_.

He makes a decision within seconds.

“I’ll be back in a moment, okay?” he says quickly, not waiting for the answer. He catches a glimpse of Hana’s confused face before he leaves the shop.

It’s cold outside, and people in the street look at him as if he was crazy – maybe he is, it doesn’t matter now – that doesn’t stop him from running, though. He can see the back of Tsukishima’s head somewhere in the crowd, and Yamaguchi does his best to reach him as quickly as he can.

“Tsukki, wait!”

His heart is beating way too fast and, of that he’s sure, it’s not only because of running. He forces his way through, seeing that Tsukki did, in fact, stop. The blonde turns around with a frown as if he isn’t sure if he really heard his name or not.

When Yamaguchi reaches him, he looks a little confused but only for a second.

“Yamaguchi, what on earth – “

“Listen,” he interrupts, panting. It’s cold and dark, and he’s trembling, but he doesn’t care.

There are some things he needs to change while he still can.

“Listen,” he starts once again.

It’s dark here, outside, but he could swear that there’s a hint of a smile on Tsukki’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi's doing his best, Tsukki. Don't you dare fuck this up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised to post the next part soon and look what happened.  
> So, yeah, sorry for that. I just figured that, despite all my good will to post it as soon as i can, I have to like the way it turned out before you'll even get the chance to, hopefully, and I struggled with this part a bit more than I did with the previous ones. I hope it'll be at least a bit enjoyable, though.  
> Also, it's kind of hard to do anything without using my right hand, typing on the keyboard included, so sorry for any mistakes and errors. My left hand doesn't like me.  
> But, hey,enough of the complains, it's Christmas around the corner! So Merry Christmas, everyone!

 

 

 

Tsukishima’s usually a collected person. That’s the first word which comes to his mind whenever he thinks about his own personality traits – he’s calm, cool-headed, reserved. He kind of likes that about himself, to be honest, because it makes other people respect him almost automatically. When they can’t see his emotions, they become less bothersome, somehow, and it’s all he needs. Kei doesn’t laugh or pout or anything – he only scowls sometimes, but his facial expressions are neutral most of the time.

Now, however, before he’s able to get a hold of himself, he finds himself smiling.

It’s only for a split second and so slight that he’s not even sure if Yamaguchi can see the curve of his lips – especially here, in the dim light of the street lamp, the evening around them slowly changing into night. His expression turns plain in an instant, but that doesn’t change the fact the smile _was_ there – honest, unthinking and good.

Kei furrows his brows a second later, glancing at Yamaguchi and trying to look as impassively as possible, but in the same time, he can’t bring himself to ignore the warmth blooming in his chest. It’s a feeling he’s not used to, one he doesn’t know, but it’s enjoyable enough just to let it be – or more than that, actually. Yamaguchi’s always made him feel things he was not ready for, and it kind of feels like one of them.

It’s weird, how both of them changed and yet remained the same. Tsukishima’s still scowling, rude and harsh – and Yamaguchi still doesn’t mind. The blonde is the better one, as Yamaguchi would put it, and it was hard not to agree some time ago, but doing so now, Kei thinks, would feel wrong.

Yamaguchi does the things Tsukishima can’t bring himself to, after all.

“What, Yamaguchi?” he asks, because, even though it was the freckled boy who, obviously, wanted to start the conversation, he’s quiet now. Something in his face looks pretty unsettled; for a second, Kei wonders why that is.

“I… I thought,” Yamaguchi finally starts, sounding somewhat insecure. He tries to smile – it turns out a bit crooked, “I was thinking that, maybe… you’d like to meet?”

The words are spoken in a little voice, a bit shaky and hesitant. All of Yamaguchi’s daring seems to slowly fade away but the blonde finds himself looking at the boy with something he’d call surprise. Yamaguchi‘s trembling but seems not to care about it in the least; Tsukishima can feels the cold wind blowing as well, the air around them nearly gelid.

So why is there only this pleasant warmth he can feel behind his sternum?

“What do you mean?” he snaps, his voice plain.

Yamaguchi makes a weird move, as if he wants to hide his hands in his pockets and then remembers that he doesn’t have a jacket on.

“To catch up, you know,” he says, hope clearly audible in his voice, “I thought it would be nice, to talk a bit if… if you want to. I won’t lie, I really am curious how you’re doing, Tsukki!”

The boy looks up at him, expecting a reaction – an answer, of course – but, for some reason he doesn’t even know himself, Kei is only able to stare at him, at his freckles and familiar spark in his eyes, his own expression blank.

It’s not what Yamaguchi expected, apparently, as it turns out.

“I mean, it’s fine if you don’t have time,” he blurts out, and something in his demeanour shifts, “I know, you surely are busy, but I thought… Well, if you don’t want to, it’s alright, it was a pretty stu – “

“Fine.”

It slips before he can even think.

Yamaguchi’s eyes lit up as he raises his eyebrows. He opens his mouth to say something – Kei can already hear _Really, Tsukki?_ somewhere in the back of his head – but the blonde cannot ignore the fact that seeing Yamaguchi trembling here, right in front of him, makes him frown automatically.

“Go back inside, Yamaguchi,” he says peremptorily, and the boy looks around in a weird reaction.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmurs, then chuckles, “Yeah, I think you’re right, Tsukki.”

Yamaguchi smiles, and it strikes him how weirdly nice these freckles of his look, even though it’s already dark and they’re barely visible in this dim light.

“I guess I’ll see you soon, then,” the boy says; it doesn’t really sound like a question, but Tsukishima nods anyway, confirming.

“Okay! Bye, Tsukki!”

Yamaguchi touches his shoulder – it’s a quick, heedless move, which makes the freckled boy blush as soon as he realises what he’s doing (or at least that’s what Kei suspects since it’s still really hard to see anything in this goddamned light of the street lamp). He steps back and, awkwardly waving his hand goodbye, heads back to the bookstore.

When Tsukishima turns around, he hears a sneeze and, really, he cannot supress a light smile.

 

When he enters the house, he’s soaking wet and angry at himself for not taking an umbrella earlier. It started raining when he was halfway home – a simple rain turned into a fucking storm within minutes - and now Kei’s shivering, can’t see a damn thing because of the raindrops on his glasses and there’s water in his shoes. He takes his coat off, muttering curses under his breath as he notices that the book he had bought earlier also got a bit wet.

He scowls.

Tsukishima can hear his mother in the kitchen, cooking something and humming a song he doesn’t know, but she doesn’t stop him when he heads to his room, just says _Welcome home, Kei_ happily. He nods, then remembers that she can’t really see him from where she’s standing, but it doesn’t matter. Not bothering with a proper answer, he goes to his room and closes the door.

Something in his head wishes he could say – especially now, when he’s cold and annoyed because of all the rain – that going to that bookstore was pointless, that he should’ve done it later or not do it at all, but Tsukishima wouldn’t entirely agree. He went there to buy the book in the first place, that’s what bookshops are for after all, the reasonable part of his mind says. The sentimental one, on the other hand, is freaking out.

He can still feel hints of the nonsencial happiness in his chest.

Kei slumps on his bed, not caring that his clothes are wet. He takes his glasses off, runs a hand through his damp hair, and a thought comes to his mind – he’s probably thinking too much about this. About him being in town again, about Yamaguchi and his job and all the stuff he pushed away when he was in Tokyo.

He doesn’t really care now, though – if he’s being completely honest.

He wasn’t even sure if he should go to this bookshop in the beginning anyway. Making up his mind took him more time that he’s willing to admit now – he left the house to go, then came back, only to leave again, gritting his teeth and murmuring _pathetic_. _Why do you care so much anyway?_ he asked himself, only to reply that he doesn’t at all. He was only supposed to suggest that, maybe, if there’s a chance, they could talk or something. He knew that Yamaguchi would agree because he was too nice, too polite to refuse. It was all safe. It was just a simple question.

When he got there – part of him hoping that it would be closed for some reason - he couldn’t ask it, though.

And this Hana girl – or whatever her name was? She wasn’t helping, either, with her overly friendly attitude and craving for attention she didn’t deserve. She was getting on his nerves, all smiling and loud and annoying. Besides, the things she told him were ridiculous – especially the last one. Who did she think she was, damn it? Kei doesn’t like people like that. They usually make him angry with simple _being around_ him.

He admits that Yamaguchi is loud, too. But he is loud in a good way, not so _irritating_.

Tsukishima wonders if the boy noticed how Hana tried to draw the blonde’s attention to herself. She reminded him of all the girls who used to confess to him when he was in high school. He never needed that, still doesn’t, and Kei kind of hopes that Yamaguchi’s aware of it, too. He’s not even in a relationship, for God’s sake, can’t bring himself to need one, even though his apartment still feels too quiet and too empty sometimes when he's the only person who is actually there. Tsukishima’s always considered himself a lonely kind of person and, undoubtedly, he is one.

But maybe not as much as he would like to.

He feels as if he was a kid again, getting his hopes up too high and waiting for something, even though he doesn’t have any idea what it is.

 _I’ll see you soon_ , Yamaguchi said.

Kei opens the book and starts reading with a sigh.

It’s not an unhappy one.

 

The book he bought turns out just as boring as the previous one, and it comes to the point when he actually starts wondering if being a doctor is a thing he really wants to do in the future (Tsukishima always thinks about it when he can’t make his brain work properly; he usually decides that it is a pretty good job in the end) when he hears a knock on his door. He doesn’t plan on saying anything at first, still trying to focus, but when he yawns the third time and hears the sound again, he decides that anything is better than reading this garbage.

“What?” he asks, and the door opens.

His mother is raising her eyebrow at him, probably doing her best to look offended, but when Tsukishima lifts his gaze too glance at her, he instantly finds hints of amusement in her eyes.

She’s always had a strange sense of humour.

“I came to tell you that the food is ready.”

“I’m not hungry,” he says.

His mother opens her mouth to say something and then, as Kei suspects, spots the book in his hand because she raises her eyebrows even higher.

“Were you in the bookstore?” she asks. The blonde thinks it’s a pretty stupid question – _And didn’t you see me coming back from somewhere half an hour ago?_ – but before he gets a chance to make some sharp comments, something in woman’s mind seem to click.

“Did you see Yamaguchi – kun?”

He looks at her for a second and then snorts, thinking that letting her in wasn’t the best idea after all.

His mother is the last person he’d like to confess all the stuff that is happening in his head now to, and even though he’s still kind of grateful for what she said during their talk back then, she really doesn’t need to know anything beyond necessary.

His business with Yamaguchi is not the necessary knowledge.

“And why do you ask?”

He wishes it was enough for her to back off and it kind of is, fortunately, but not entirely.

The smile which appears on her lips, Kei thinks, is quite irritating.

“Next time you see him,” she says, and Tsukishima bets she’s suppressing a laugh, “say hello for me, honey.”

And then she just leaves the room.

Tsukishima doesn’t really know what to do for a second so he just covers his eyes with his arm.

“I can’t believe this woman,” he mutters, because _damn it._

And why does she care anyway? It’s not her thing, whether he saw Yamaguchi or not. This is ridiculous, he should’ve told her to go away or that he went there just to buy this goddamn book, that’s all. She would believe him because she saw how many things he has to read – there is a pile of at least five different tomes next to his bed. That explanation would be logical. He really has to read all this stuff.

He curses, sitting up and searching for his phone – when he finds it, he discovers that it’s barely past 8 PM now.

He doesn’t gives himself a chance to realise what he’s doing. He’s been a calm person long enough. It’s not bad to let it go once in a while.

It’s funny, he thinks, how text messages have always been an easier way to communicate with people for him. He’s always preferred to type a message instead of calling and now is no different. Everyone knows that.

Yamaguchi as well.

It’s quick and short, but he reads it twice anyway, more anxious than not for some reason. He wonders if that’s how all the girls back in high school felt, when they were confessing to him.

“I really am thinking too much,” Kei growls, trying to snap out of it.

 _Yamaguchi_ , the message reads, _define “soon”._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kei's mother is the biggest Tsukishima/Yamaguchi shipper, I swear.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have too much free time. That's the result.  
> Sorry for any mistakes and typos.  
> Also, thanks for over 100 kudos, guys, this is insane. I still can't believe that someone actually reads that rubbish.

 

 

Hana keeps looking at him as if he was supposed to tell her something. Yamaguchi has no idea what it might be, whatever she wants to hear, but he still tries to ignore her persistent gaze and focus on his job rather than thinking about anything else.

It’s difficult.

Firstly, Hana is, as far as he knows, a pretty stubborn person. Whatever she wants him to say, he’ll have to spill the beans sooner or later. This girl is kind of intrusive, to be honest – has always been, at least since Yamaguchi’s known her which means at least two years. She’s nice, and he likes her, really, but at the same time she tends to be a bit pushy. Most of the time, he doesn’t mind, though, because she reminds him of himself, of who he used to be. Besides, they still are pretty alike. Not so much, but still.

Today, he does mind, though.

Because Hana is not the only matter that bothers him. The second is, seemingly unimportant,  the text message he got yesterday and hasn’t replied to yet, not being sure if he should do it at all or, on the contrary, should’ve done it already.

He doesn’t even know what to do anymore.

He’s aware that he’s panicking. A bit. He was the one who proposed to meet up, but it was a reckless idea, decision made in the heat of the moment, and he realised it as soon as he said it all out loud. Tsukishima agreed, though, which made Yamaguchi want to laugh because of how happy he suddenly felt. _I’ll see you soon_ , he said, not really thinking about the words that left his mouth. Besides, if he could, he was ready to meet Tsukishima whenever the latter wanted to then.

But now he has to decide when the actual meeting will take place, and that… that’s weird.

He can feel Hana’s eyes on him as he gives the change to one of the clients and thanks him with a nod of his head.

Yamaguchi doesn’t know why Tsukki sent him this message so shortly after they had seen each other. There’s a possibility, he thinks, that the blonde’s just curious, although he’d never admit it – about all the things that’ve been happening, about how Yamaguchi’s been dealing with his father’s illness and huge amounts of work he had to handle. They used to be  best friends, after all. Tsukishima has the right to ask and the right to know.

But this is not likely, Yamaguchi realises as he watches his customer leave the bookshop. Tsukki is not that kind of person – he’s not really interested in things like somebody else’s life, whether it’s a person who used to be close to him or a total stranger in the street. He doesn’t need to meet Yamaguchi and listen to him, rambling on about his life. Tsukishima just wants to get it over with.

It strikes him, how much of a great explanation that would be. It’s good, it suits him. This is why he’s asking to, as he put it himself, define what the mysterious “soon” means.

Chances are he wants it to mean today or tomorrow, _come on, Yamaguchi, just leave me alone._

Yamaguchi doesn’t really know if it’s all true, but that’s exactly what the old Tsukishima would do. He’s gotten to know him good enough to be aware of that.

“Yamaguchi?”

He looks at Hana, a question in his eyes as he notices her still persistent gaze and raised eyebrow. Her two clients’ve just left the shop, too, and they are alone at the moment, the room too big and Yamaguchi a bit more anxious than needed.

“Hm?” he manages, the sound not entirely clear, Hana gets the message, though.

“Did you talk to him?”

Yamaguchi looks askance at her, so Hana adds, “Tsukishima.”

He told her some things about them when he finally got back to the shop from the freezing cold outside, huge smile on his face and hair messy. She asked questions – _what the hell was that, Yamaguchi? Who was that guy?_ or _Are you crazy?_ and, really, many others, more specific, so he decided that she deserved to now at least something.

Yamaguchi didn’t get into the details. He told her that Tsukishima Kei used to be a friend of his, now lived and studied in Tokyo and came back to town for a couple of weeks. He had always been a great person, he said, and they had played volleyball together back in high school; it was fun, even though Tsukki was so much better at it. Yamaguchi didn’t know that the blonde was in town until he stumbled across him. Yes, they did talk, but only briefly and it was all a bit awkward, to be honest. He did his best to sound neutral then, wasn’t sure if it really worked, though.

He remembers Hana eyeing him, looking at his grin and flushed cheeks. She looked as if she was hesitating, afraid to ruin his glee but finally decided to speak.

“Were you to go to Tokyo with him?” she asked then.

Hana knew about Yamaguchi’s father. She didn’t need to ask why he didn’t go, only if he had ever been supposed to do so at all.

For some reason, it made Yamaguchi’s smile weaken for a second.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yes, I was.”

But why would she bring him up now, all of a sudden?

“What? Why?” He raises his eyebrows, honestly clueless. Hana’s seemed to act a bit strange lately. “Did you tell him something?”

It’s a shot in the dark. He’s not even sure if he wants to know what they were talking about during these seconds when he was gone to find Tsukishima’s book – it could be literally anything, knowing Hana, and completely nothing as well, knowing Tsukki. But at the same time, he’s kind of afraid that she might know something about his feelings – her behaviour and the glances she shots him are weird enough to let him think so. Yamaguchi has no idea how come.

But Hana’s a woman, and women know such things.

Still, though, she only shrugs and mumbles “Just curious” under her breath.

Then, a customer comes in and Hana greets him with an enthusiastic “Hello!”, moving her attention to the client so Yamaguchi lets it go.

Instead, he reaches for his phone. His hand is trembling a bit but, he does his best to ignore it and is rather successful. He shouldn’t get so nervous over one message, he thinks, but it’s not really nervousness he’s feeling.

It’s something bitter he can’t name just now, something he doesn’t like but, in the same time, is familiar with.

Tsukki probably wants to deal with him as soon as he can. Yamaguchi doesn’t want to make it even harder for him.

He sighs, typing.

_How about tomorrow?_

 

It all goes pretty much downhill from there.

They set it all down with only a couple of text messages, the ones sent from Yamaguchi nice and amiable, Tsukishima’s short and terse. Tadashi does his best not to let it get to him, but it just confirms what he’s been thinking before. (It’s okay. He’s alright, he’s going to see Tsukki, after all. He should be thrilled and he is, really, just not as much as he expected – he would be more if this choking, bitter feeling wasn’t there.) Since it’s the middle of the week and Yamaguchi has work tomorrow, they decide to go for a coffee during lunch. This whole thing won’t last longer than as hour anyway, he thinks, and Tsukki seems to know that, too, because he agrees instantly.

When he leaves the shop that evening, he wishes Hana a good night, and she replies with a bright smile, saying “See you tomorrow!”.

He doesn’t sleep very well that night.

It’s just like in the beginning, when Tsukki left, and he couldn’t really cope with it – back then, he used to stare at the ceiling as well, trying to fall asleep and failing, night after night until he finally gave up. Now, when all he can hear is his own heartbeat and a clock ticking on his bedside table, and Tadashi’s completely awake, if feels just the same, even though he thought that these lonely, silent nights were gone for good.

But what does it matter anyway?, he thinks, curling up– his bed creaks quietly. Nobody knows about it – he never even told his parents, and they were too busy to notice anything weird in his behaviour on their own. The only sign of his lack of sleep will be dark circles under his eyes tomorrow and maybe some more yawning than usual. His mom and dad won’t notice. Hana won’t notice.

And Tsukki will not as well.

He used to, when they were in high school – there were some nights when Yamaguchi couldn’t sleep because he was too nervous before a match or a test or was worried because some girl confessed to Tsukki again – and even though he never really told him that, Tadashi knew that Tsukishima'd remarked. He was narrowing his eyes when he yawned too many times per lesson and scowling when Tadashi revealed his intent to skip practice that day. (He never was that good of a liar and was sure Tsukki knew Yamaguchi wasn’t telling the truth when he claimed that he had something really important to do. Besides, he didn’t have anything like that to do anyway, he was just too embarrassed to admit that he couldn’t sleep because of how nervous he was – Tsukishima would just hiss _pathetic_ at that. At times like these, Tadashi went home and slept, simply.) That way, although Yamaguchi never told him that straight in the eye, the blonde knew anyway.

But not anymore. They haven’t seen each other for too long, it’s been so much time. Hoping that one single meeting could change that was stupid.

Yamaguchi closes his eyes, trying to fall asleep one more time. The room is quiet, he can’t even hear the cars outside. There’s a dog barking at something, maybe a cat or some birds, he doesn’t know, but except for it and Tadashi’s stubborn clock, it’s impossibly silent – the town is sleeping, he thinks, only to wake up tomorrow. He should do the same.

He’s not a high schooler anymore, he shouldn’t be so silly. It’s obvious. And, even though, something inside him still does hope that the meeting tomorrow will, in fact, change something.

The most foolish ideas are formed at night, after all.

The world’s sleeping so Yamaguchi exhales and follows in its footsteps.

 

The café they'd decided to meet in is a small place on the corner of the street – it’s close enough to the bookshop for Yamaguchi to get there on time and easy enough for Tsukishima to find. It’s weird, Tadashi thinks. Some time ago they used to meet in each other’s houses or at school, at the gym, anywhere but in a place like that. He considers a café a neutral ground, though. He’s been there a couple of times and has to admit that he likes it – the interior is nice, with grey walls and dark, wooden chairs and tables; the atmosphere cosy but still not romantic or anything. Yamaguchi enjoys it. It really smells of coffee in there, and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t appreciate it.

 _I hope Tsukishima will, too_ , he thinks. _The new one._

He’s been catching himself doing that, lately – separating Tsukishima Kei into two different characters, treating him as if he was two individuals. There’s his friend, Tsukki, the one he knows, the one who'd left to study in Tokyo and there’s Tsukishima, the guy who came to town, the one he bumped into a few days ago, this tall, cool-headed, extraordinarily handsome. What he does is kind of unfair, he knows that, but in the same time, he only thinks so because it makes this whole situation a bit easier for him.

He’s in love with both of them, after all, the old and the new one, no matter how hard he tried to change that.

It’s not important that it doesn’t really feel right to call him “Tsukki” anymore – Yamaguchi’s not even sure if he should do it, doesn’t know if the blonde wants him to, if it’s alright. This nickname’s special; it belongs to, as it seems at times, someone else. Maybe there’s a different person, somewhere in Tokyo, who calls him that now. Perhaps it should not be Tadashi’s privilege to do so. And the more he thinks about it – he’s been doing that a lot recently – the more he’s convinced that it’s true.

He doesn’t want it to be, but maybe it is.

Hana’s in the store again, but, although he expects her to, she doesn’t say anything when he announces that he’ll be back in an hour and he’s leaving to eat lunch. As Yamaguchi exits the shop, he wonders if Tsukishima’s already in the café. There’s no doubt he’ll come – it’s _him_ , after all, doesn’t matter if the old one or new one – but he only thinks about _when_ ; if he’s early, if he’s already waiting or, rather, he’s late, somehow.

The air is cold, as cold as always but when Tadashi finds that Tsukishima’s already inside, waiting for him – he gets close enough to the café to see him sitting at the table by the window – he feels the blush on his cheeks just fine.

Tadashi enters, and the barista frowns upon him because he lets a cold breeze in. The boy smiles apologetically, looking around, realising that his heart is beating way too fast and he’s way too stressed.

He looks at Tsukishima, hesitantly, only to discover that he’s already spotted him as well and is raising an eyebrow at him right now, so Tadashi smiles – it feels _good_ to smile at the blonde – and approaches him.

“Hi, Tsukki!” he says, taking his jacket off, “I’m sorry I’m late, have you been waiting long?”

Tsukishima shrugs.

“Not really,” he murmurs, “Besides, you’re not late.”

“Oh, good.” Tadashi lets out a small laugh. He’s nervous and Tsukki’s not at all, which only makes everything worse. _Easy, this is going to be quick._ “Have you ordered – “

He stops mid-sentence, noticing two cups on the table – one in front of Tsukishima and the other in front of his still empty seat. Yamaguchi glances at it for a second, and when he opens his mouth to say something, the blonde speaks.

“Cappuccino, three sugar lumps,” he communicates, his voice clear and nice but eyes somewhat unsure, “I hope you still like that?”

Yamaguchi just eyes him for a moment. There’s this strange warmth spreading in his body, and he doesn’t even want to suppress a smile.

It’s a small thing but, at the same time, it’s huge.

“Yeah,” he confirms quietly, “Yeah, I do. Thank you.”

The new Tsukishima remembers something the old one once knew.

The blonde just nods and looks down again, at his hands. Yamaguchi’s still nervous, he can feel the tight knot of stress in his throat, but it’s not so overwhelming anymore, not so suffocating. He can do this.

Let it go for an hour and just enjoy.

“So,” he says as he sits down, wide grin on his face and a cup of coffee in front of him, “what’s up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Yamaguchi enjoys his coffee really sweet.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never expected this thing to get so long. It's crazy. That's most likely the longest thing I've written and it's not even the end yet. I hope you enjoy this rubbish, though.  
> Tsukishima is swearing a little bit and there's a lot of him thinking about stuff in this one, I'm sorry if it bothers someone.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes!

 

 

When he was in Tokyo, Tsukishima sometimes wondered how it would be, to live with Yamaguchi. His flat was always neat and clean and from time to time, when it was late and he was tired or just felt kind of down, he wondered if the floor, instead of being so tidy all the time, would be cluttered if Yamaguchi was there. How living together would feel, coming back, knowing that Yamaguchi is (or will be) there in the apartment; falling asleep, being aware of the fact that the boy’s sleeping in the room next to his own; watching stupid movies together – he’s sure Yamaguchi would force him to do so eventually – even helping him with his studies (although Kei had always been bothered by that back in high school, to be honest). He imagines it as an easy thing, a cooperation; they would get on perfectly fine.

As he walks back home, though, he thinks that wondering _what if_ doesn’t really make sense anymore and he should quit that – it’s stupid, especially now. He spoke to Yamaguchi, after all, got to know what kind of person he is now, how much he’s changed.

Because he has changed, a bit, but still more than Tsukishima’d like him to.

 _But we managed, somehow_ , Kei thinks, hiding his hands in his pockets, _to stay kind of the same._

Kind of.

That is because earlier he’d never even thought that talking to Yamaguchi can make him feel uneasy – and that’s what happened today. Tsukishima would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little wary of this whole situation in the beginning – of them, meeting in some place he doesn’t know, talking about the things he has to force himself to speak about. He knew how it would look like from the very start and wasn’t really mistaken; Kei had imagined Yamaguchi’s nervous movements and hesitant gaze, his restlessness feebly concealed with laugh and smiling long before he actually saw it. He expected that – as much as he couldn’t bring himself to be surprised because of his own gritted teeth and tense jaw.

Tsukishima can’t help but snort now, when he thinks about it again – just how awkward it was, how Yamaguchi desperately tried to do something about it, only to make things worst in the end. Kei himself wasn’t really sure what to do, so he chose the best option, as he thought, which was sitting and listening. It was easy at first – Yamaguchi’s rambling wasn’t something he hadn’t heard before after all, and he was used to this chatter of his, but while he was just sipping his coffee, Yamaguchi started to get lost in one of the stories he was telling – this one was about how he stumbled upon this idiot Hinata some time ago. It could’ve been interesting, funny, even, if Yamaguchi wasn’t so stressed - Tsukishima remembered looking at the boy’s still trembling hands and thinking that this was what he imagined yet was still pretty surprised.

If it was anyone else, he’d start scoffing long ago. That _was not_ anyone, though. He did what he did, as he thinks now, on the spur of the moment and didn’t really think about it. Perhaps, a part of him wanted to save Yamaguchi from his own suffering; maybe he was just irritated because of all of this. They’ve never talked like that before. He began to wonder what happened to Yamaguchi’s effortless laugh or the way he was looking at him when he listened.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” he just said, his voice plain. It was consensual – he’d said these words so many times that it was the first thing that came to his mind.

And Yamaguchi reacted the same way he always did. He stopped in the middle of the sentence, a bit startled, and flinched.

“Sorry, Tsukki!” the reply came.

He expected that and didn’t at the same time – maybe that’s why they both glanced at each other, Yamaguchi looking as surprised with his own words as Tsukishima felt. _Old habits die hard_ , Kei thought back then, even though he’s never been much of a proverb person.

And then, after a couple of seconds, there was a laugh. The sound made his muscles relax – it was a familiar thing, after all. Yamaguchi laughed, shortly but genuinely, and Kei huffed. He could see the boy in front of him loosening up which somehow made him feel better as well. It all became a bit easier because if it, even though he’d never admit that anything was particularly difficult for him in the first place.

And after that… they just talked.

A lot. About different things, things they were curious about. Something switched, and although neither of them was sure what it exactly was, Kei started to feel as if he was back in high school again.

Yamaguchi was the one talking most of the time, which was not surprising – he talked about his job, how nice it was to work in the bookstore, how glad he was to work with Hana. His life had been pretty simple lately, as he admitted, but didn’t seem worried because of that. At the same time, though, Kei also thought that not only had Yamaguchi’s life been simple, but also quite enjoyable. He was listening to the stories, sipping his coffee when, at some point, Yamaguchi stopped, looking a little abashed.

“Sorry,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair, “I know it must be pretty boring for you.”

Tsukishima wanted to deny – to say that it was not; that he found it quite interesting, that the sound of Yamaguchi’s voice was more pleasant that it probably should and he had nothing against him talking – but it would feel weird, to say something like that, so he just shrugged.

“So, tell me how you’re doing,” Yamaguchi said, his eyes bright, “Your life is far more interesting than mine, isn’t it?”

For a split second, he wanted to say _no. No, in fact, you’re wrong, Yamaguchi, it’s plain and lonely. There are times when I wonder if it would be any less if you lived next to me._

But he didn’t say that, obviously. Instead, he sighed and just started.

Basically, he told him what he had told his parents about – about the flaws of living alone and being an adult which included cleaning, doing the shopping, cooking or paying rent.  He told him about all the boring books he had to read and how studying at night made his vision defect even worse. He told him how during the first year in Tokyo the noise of all the cars made it impossible to sleep, how this city was always loud and bright, so different from this place.

“Do you regret going there?” Yamaguchi asked at some point, and Tsukishima didn’t know if the boy did that out of simple curiosity or rather because he wanted to get some answers he hoped for, but his words sounded softly, so Kei assumed he was just being nice. “Tokyo, I mean?”

“No,” he said - without hesitation and firmly because it was true.  He never regretted it.

He just hesitated sometimes - if it was a good decision.

But, despite all the things that bothered him, he was pretty sure he made a good choice. He learned more than he’d ever imagine, got to know how it is to be on his own, met some new people even though most of them were idiots. It was a good choice.

Yamaguchi smiled at that, saying “I’m glad.”

For a split second, this curve of his lips looked weird, and when he thinks about it now, tracing the cracks of the grey pavement under his feet, Tsukishima knows he should’ve asked about it or maybe make a tart remark because of which the boy would say something more.

But Kei didn’t say anything, and then, all of a sudden, Yamaguchi’s phone rang, making this weird smile vanish.

He looked absolutely startled at the sound but got the device out of his pocket pretty quickly.

“Oh, snap,” he said (Tsukishima couldn’t help but huff at that because _come on, this guy couldn’t even swear properly_ ), “It’s Hana. Sorry, I think I need to get back to work.”

He didn’t pick up the phone, but immediately stood up, still looking surprised.

“Can’t you…” Kei started but then bit his tongue. Yamaguchi was already putting his jacket on and zipping it. He _had_ to go.

_Can’t you tell her you’ll be late?_

“I’m sorry but I should’ve gotten there half an hour ago,” he said, looking at him apologetically, “I’ll pay you back for the coffee, I promise.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Don’t say that,” Yamaguchi murmured, and Kei just rolled his eyes, “Okay, I’ll see you around, alright? Bye, Tsukki!”

And he rushed outside.

So now Tsukishima is here, going back home. There’s only a few people out there, because of the shitty weather or the hour, perhaps– most of them are probably working now. Kei is not because he’s not a resident but a visitor – it’s been feeling like it most of the time recently.

Only when Yamaguchi is around, it feels a bit more like home and less like some place he used to know but can’t really remember now. It’s clichéd, he knows, because it makes him snort at how weird his mind is slowly getting in this place.

Somewhere inside, it feels a little like truth, though.

 

This town is small enough to stumble across someone you don’t really want to meet, Tsukishima thinks.

It’s surprising how many people get out on the streets in the evenings here. It’s pretty much the same in Tokyo, but here the difference is much more noticeable since this place is such a tiny one compared to the capital city of Japan. In Tokyo everyone is loud, harried, the lights bright, streets overcrowded. Here, on the other hand, it’s more like a wave – it’s calm, not so rushed, not so overwhelming.

It’s mostly teenagers, people his age and younger, but he manages to spot some adults, too – married couples holding hands or heading to the restaurants, hoping to get some rest from the children they left at home or troubles they had to deal with. Tsukishima doesn’t really care (he’s only here because he is a frigging _obedient son_ , as his mother put it, and he agreed to go and do some shopping she needed _right now, besides, Kei, you haven’t been out the whole day_ –which is not even true). It’s just that at some point, somewhere amongst these people, he catches a glimpse of a face he feels like he’s seen somewhere before. When he turns his head, he discovers it’s Hana.

She’s going in the same direction as him, unfortunately. Kei can see her laughing at something and half expects to see Yamaguchi to be somewhere around, he doesn’t really know why. The boy’s not here, though, Tsukishima can’t spot his tousled brown hair anywhere near, which makes him relieved and disappointed at the same time. It’s an annoying feeling.

Kei does his best to tune it out.

Yamaguchi has no reason to be there, he thinks. Besides, they’ve just seen each other earlier that day so it’s not like he has something to say to him. He has had nothing to say to him since he left and Yamaguchi stayed, but, as he realises a second later, it’s a bitter thought which disturbs him, so Kei decides to shrug it off, too.

And then, when he blinks, he sees that Hana has spotted him and is looking at him right now as well.

At first, he suspects that she’s going to walk over, pushing through, and talk to him, shooting her too-eager smile at his face, which would make him scowl immediately. She just keeps looking, though, and then gives him a small nod of her head (there is a smile, yes, it’s not an overly wide grin, though, but a subtle curve of lips), only to disappear in the crowd.

Tsukishima doesn’t complain.

Even though he doesn’t really know her, he get just what kind of person she is – Hana is, as he already noticed, honest and optimistic; there’s no wonder she and Yamaguchi seem to get along so well – Kei can imagine that the boy cherishes these features. And Hana must like Yamaguchi’s smile or maybe even his silly expression when he’s apologizing. For a second, he thinks that he and Hana would look good as a couple.

He grits his teeth at the thought, but it’s still likely.

And, as he looks at her, Kei automatically recalls the things she told him in this unfortunate bookshop earlier.

He remembers that she tried to talk to him at first, saying some things about herself he didn’t need to know at all and asking questions he never planned on answering. He just wanted to see Yamaguchi, buy the book, and leave because that was what he came there for. Kei wanted to talk to the boy, not some Hana or whatever the hell her name was. She was not worth his time – not pretty, not intelligent, too loud and too helpful, even when he didn’t need her assistance in the least.

As he discovered a bit later, though, she turned out to be quite observant – if that was the right word to call it. She managed to notice something he could not describe, couldn’t put into words.

Because Hana finally gave up on trying to make him talk to her; Tsukishima could hear her ostentatious sigh and caught a glimpse of movement as she put her hand on her hip. He didn’t intend to say anything and, several seconds later, when he began to hope that she didn’t as well, the girl spoke.

“You know,” Hana said as if they were some kind of damned friends or something, and it was ridiculous, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but there’s something wrong between you two. You and Yamaguchi.”

He frowned, looking down at her, and she shrugged.

“I mean, I know it’s not my business, but…”

“It’s not, exactly,” he confirmed in a scathing tone that made Hana cringe. He wanted her to _be quiet_ or to simply get lost. Now, when he thinks about it, he doesn’t know if he should be angry or just confused – that’s because she was not quiet at all.

Because, despite of his spiteful gaze, she said what she thought.

“You keep looking at him as if you were apologizing for something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hana is a wise woman.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really late and I'm really tired but I wanted to post it today so here you go.  
> Sorry for any mistakes, I'll check the whole thing tomorrow - I seriously need to get some sleep first.

 

 

He’s already learned that getting his hopes up is not a good thing.

It feels really hard not to do this, though.

Yamaguchi supposes that maybe it’s just the way he is – there’s not much he can do about his genes, after all. He likes to think he got it from his mom, this carelessness he remembers seeing when he was younger and still does see, even if less often. He doesn’t really let it get to him, as well, but sometimes, at times like these, when he can’t supress the urge to smile or goes down the street, humming, Tadashi feels that it’s good to let it go once in a while.

He repeats in his head that _it was just a single meeting, even if it went well_ and it’s foolish of him to be so happy about something so small, he still is, though.

He does have the right to be happy about something once in a while, doesn’t he?

When Yamaguchi arrives at the bookstore, unlocks the door and takes his coat off, he feels like he has the right. His life may be plain and simple but, to be honest, he likes it. He’s keen on all these little things that make him smile. He got used to getting up early, to wishing his parents a good day before he leaves the house, to helping the clients and going back home in the evenings, staring at the stars. It’s nothing big and nothing special but somewhat huge at the same time. And being with Tsukishima, talking and listening to him, suddenly turn out to be that kind of thing, the one he enjoys even though he thought he wouldn’t.

It feels good to be truly happy about something.

Especially since he hasn’t had the occasion to feel this way in a while.

That is because he and his mother both had to change pretty quickly in order to cope with everything that came down at them. The carelessness Yamaguchi and his mom have in common had to become smaller and make room for trustworthiness and maturity. The signs of it are still visible from time to time, Tadashi thinks (for example the whole act of chasing Tsukki down the street to propose the meeting was one of them) so it’s not like he’s a completely different person all of a sudden. When he was talking to Tsukki, he actually discovered that it’s quite the opposite – Yamaguchi is basically the same.

All his features are just buried under the burden of the still-sudden responsibility.

He’s not in the position to complain, really, and he doesn’t usually do that. It’s not like it was his father’s fault, even though he was the one who got ill. It all happened fast – Yamaguchi’s still surprised when he recalls just how quickly so many things occurred. He didn’t even had the time to blink, and his plans suddenly collapsed, creating a mess at his feet. There were doctor’s appointments, hospitals, looking for a job. It became obvious that he could not go to Tokyo, he couldn’t leave his parents just like that.

And he didn’t.

Tadashi never held it against them and tried to act as normal as he could. Instead, he focused on the smallest things that would make him at least a tiny bit happy. It was hard at first, especially after Tsukki left without him – and seeing his mom’s worried and his father’s apologetic looks wasn’t a help, either – but he eventually learned how to do it.

As Yamaguchi observes the first client coming into the shop, he thinks that, even though he can surely assume that things are looking up right now, everything that happened in the past is his fault, too, somehow. It’s really weird, but he can’t help it.

Because sometimes it all feels like a deal he doesn’t recall making; an exchange – love for love. His father will stay if Tsukki goes. He has to lose one of them in order to keep the other. And somehow, even though he has no idea how come, he supposes he agreed to that when the time came.

He doesn’t regret it, just sometimes wonders _what if_.

Right now, though, as he greets the client and offers help, Yamaguchi thinks something is different. He doesn’t really know what at first, but then gets it when the customer smiles at him – or, rather, smiles _back_. He used to think that this deal was kind of a one way ticket – that he made the choice and the matter is closed. But his father’s started feeling better and Tsukki’s back in town, at least for a while. Besides, when Yamaguchi’s with him, he feels just like this noisy, carefree kid he truly used to be back in the day.

It’s likely that he has never been so glad he was wrong about something.

 

He doesn’t really know how to react when he sees Tsukishima entering the shop for the first time a few days later. At first he thinks it’s just another customer he doesn’t know and Yamaguchi lifts his head to greet the person.

Then his eyes meet Tsukishima’s and the words get stuck in his throat.

He  doesn’t know why the blonde is even here. The first thought in his mind is that Tsukki is leaving and maybe came to tell him that – the single idea seems weirdly scary. He doesn’t want him to leave just yet, as he realises. Something about Tsukishima’s demeanor is off and for a second Tadashi is really afraid that what he thinks might be actually true.

“Hi, Tsukki!” he almost stammers. He forces the words to sound cheerfully as he says “What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering, Tsukishima looks around the bookstore, as if he’s looking for something.

“The girl’s not here?” he mutters, then looks at Tadashi again and approaches the counter.

He opens his mouth to ask what girl the blonde means but then realises that it’s most likely Hana since she was actually there when Tsukki was there before.

“Oh, she… Hana doesn’t work here. She just helps sometimes. You know, Tsukki, it’s her mother’s shop so I think she feels obligated to, kind of.”

The blonde, as Tadashi notices, ignored his question but he’s not really surprised or anything. With that or the fact that he doesn’t remember Hana’s name. Actually, it makes him want to chuckle.

When he looks at him, looking up from his hands, he is almost sure that there’s a slight, pleased smile on Tsukishima’s lips, it vanishes in an instant, though, so fast he doesn’t really know if it was there at all.

“So,” he picks up, still anxious a bit because he still doesn’t know the purpose behind Tsukki’s unexpected visit, “why are you here?”

The blonde shifts his weight from foot to foot, adjusting his glasses (it’s a gesture Yamaguchi hasn’t seen in years but it’s still _so_ familiar) and then sights.

“I need another book.”

This time Tadashi really giggles, feeling the tension fading away.

“Really?”

Tsukishima just shrugs, ignoring the looks the other clients in the shop give them when they hear Yamaguchi’s laugh.

“Oh, well, come on, then,” the boy says, leading him to one of the shelves.

The next time Tsukishima comes, saying that his mother sent him to buy her a cookbook she really wanted. It turns out that Yamaguchi doesn’t have it in stock right now but when he offers that he’ll order it, the blonde tells him not to bother because, as he claims, _it wasn’t so important anyway_. Then, a day later, the blonde argues that he needs to find some mysterious CD (which is ridiculous because they don’t even sell them – it’s a _bookstore_ ) and when Yamaguchi tells him that the record shop is not so far from here, he looks slightly uneasy but just waves his hand.

The next day, Yamaguchi doesn’t even ask and Tsukki himself doesn’t say anything about why he’s here again, either.

Hana’s in the shop then and when she notices Tsukishima entering, she tugs at Yamaguchi’s sleeve and raises an eyebrow. The boy just smiles, shrugging.

It’s no misery that Tsukki comes here to talk to him – or at least that’s what he wants to believe – because every time they see each other, there turns out to be a whole bunch of new stuff to chat about. Well, okay, it’s mainly Yamaguchi blabbing but this is how their friendship has always worked. It feels more and more like the old times and Yamaguchi tries not to really divide Tsukishima into the old and the new one since, as it seems, it would be pretty unfair to think that way. The blonde doesn’t really seem so black-and-white anymore.

Yamaguchi doesn’t know if he should be happy or worried, to be honest, but he goes with the first one.

Tsukishima seems a bit dissatisfied to see Hana around Tadashi again – or this is what she tells him later, when they are closing the shop.

Yamaguchi looks at her, then, pouting.

“This is not true,” he says.

Hana just rolls her eyes.

“Trust me, I know what I saw,” she claims, putting her coat on, “He doesn’t like me.”

For a split second Yamaguchi wants to tell her that he doesn’t recall any girl Tsukishima would ever like, whatsoever, or rather that there was no one except of him who would be someone more than just a colleague to Tsukki. Then he decides not to say anything, though, because the words feel wrong on his lips. Firstly, he has no right to say that anymore, as he quickly reminds himself; Tsukki’s likely to have some friends in Tokyo now, or maybe even someone more important than that.

Secondly, though, it just feels too personal an information to share with Hana, just like that.

He actually plans on dropping the subject when she adds, all of a sudden and under her breath “I’m not really surprised, though.”

Yamaguchi looks at her, confused.

“What? Why?”

The girl shots him a quick look and then probably tries to pretend that she didn’t her the question. There’s something nervous and hurried about the way she buttons her coat, though, so Yamaguchi stubbornly repeats.

“Hana, what do you mean?”

She snorts.

“I didn’t say anything,” she claims and Yamaguchi can’t help but huff at that.

He’s not a great liar himself but still can recognise a deceit when someone is shoving it in his face.

“Come on, what is it?”

She runs a hand through her short, dark hair.

“It’s nothing, I just… well, I just think I’m not really his kind of person.”

Yamaguchi zips his jacket as he snorts, asking “What is that supposed to mean?”

She bites her lip, putting her hands in the pockets of her coat.

“I told him some weird things once,” she admits, sighing, “It was strange, I don’t really know why I did that in the first place.”

Yamaguchi furrows his brows.

“What did you tell him?”

He likes Tsukishima coming to the bookstore to simply talk to him – he even started to think that maybe the blonde missed him at least partially as much as Tadashi missed Tsukishima. Now, though, considering what Hana just said, it seems a bit weird when it comes to think of it and Yamaguchi can’t help but think (for a split second but still) that perhaps…

That was why he has been coming here. Because of something that Hana said to him. Maybe he feels beholden to do so, somehow.

Yamaguchi doesn’t really want it to be true.

The girl turns around to actually look at him and he can see the wince on her face. The boy’s not sure if he should be angry at her for saying some weird stuff to the blonde or maybe curious about what she actually told him and then decides to go with the second option since he’s never really been particularly good at getting angry at people.

So he just raises an eyebrow and says, “Come on, tell me.”

She opens her mouth, and then there’s a spark of something in her eyes.

“I think it would be better if you asked him yourself, actually,” Hana says, the swallows a bit nervously – even though Tadashi has no idea why – and then, muttering a goodbye, she leaves the bookstore before he can do anything beyond saying “Wait.”

Left with no other choice but to raise the subject tomorrow again, Yamaguchi sighs. Whatever she told Tsukki, he thinks, and for whatever reason, the last thing he wants is that to be the purpose of the blonde coming here.

As he locks the door and heads down the street, the yellow lights of the street lamps glaring above his head, Yamaguchi decides that he will find out what exactly Hana told the blonde. It already starts to bother him; this is not on the list of the things he'd possibly crave for in any way.

Especially since all seemed to go so well.

He’s kind of afraid of what he might hear because Hana’s always been pretty unpredictable, or at least since he’s known her. She’s also pretty stubborn, but Yamaguchi can be determined, too, when he wants to. She will tell him eventually.

Because if she doesn’t, Tsukki will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really know what to make of this chapter and then the inspiration wave hit me and this happened.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been some time since I last updated this story.  
> I don't know if somebody is still waiting for the new chapters, but they will be appearing again from now on. To be honest, I had no idea what to make of this story - it took me some time to sort everything out. I hope it will be fine now.  
> Also, my life's spinned out of control lately - whoever came up with the idea of growing up was a horrible person.  
> I apologize for such a long break. You may've thought that the story would never be finished, and there was a time when I considered that myself. I don't know if any of you is still waiting; if you are, though, then please, enjoy.  
> Also, I will be editing the previous chapters a little, because they are littered with mistakes...

 

 

He sometimes wonders how big the chances of him losing his sanity are exactly.

Tsukishima Kei, he thinks in the back of his head, an exemplary university student, future doctor, a man who’s gradually going crazy. The pace of progression is pretty worrying at this point, varying from slightly disturbing to seriously alarming. One moment, everything seems to be completely fine – he keeps his weird thoughts in check, his demeanor as collected as ever, eyes calm, expression blank; the next one, his body and feelings team up, rebelling against his mind.

It always throws him off.

This has never happened before, not at this scale. Yamaguchi's always been his friend; obviously, he liked him, fine – there’s no need to make a secret out of it. They’ve known each other nearly their whole lives and felt comfortable around each other – Kei still remembers Hinata, this annoying, hyperactive kid, making remarks on that sometimes when he wasn’t busy enough during practice and somehow managed to actually _think_ for a second, between grumbling at Kageyama and fawning over Nishinoya.

“Hey, Tsukishima, how come such a jerk as you actually manages to stay friends with Yamaguchi?” Hinata would say when he was especially angry at him sometimes, but Kei’s always thought that the question was phrased rather incorrectly – it should be more like _Why would Yamaguchi want to stay friends with you?_

And Yamaguchi would always defend him, so all Kei had to do was to shoot Hinata one of his mean smiles, because there was no need to strain – that was enough for Hinata to start muttering under his breath, face red with irritation. Teasing this guy was just too easy.

Back then, he never really got into details – he and Yamaguchi just worked, period. They matched; their friendship was one of the things Tsukishima didn’t have to ponder on, simply because it was so easy. They were good acquaintances at first, then friends and best friends, and he used to think that there were no more levels to move up to.

He might have been, as it now slowly starts to get to him, terribly wrong.

This whole thing with Yamaguchi starts to spin out of control – Tsukishima doesn’t know what to call it anymore. They seem to be something more and less than friends at the same time, and it annoys him very, _very_ much – not being able to define this relationship. He keeps coming to the bookstore, and again, his mind and his heart fight over every little thing.

This sounds so damned cheesy, even in his own head, that he’s just plainly angry with himself.

Because he just can’t _stop_ – hell no. He goes there every single day, never mind that he run out of reasonable excuses a long time ago and now is just plainly obvious. Being with Yamaguchi gets easier and easier every time they meet – the boy seems to be actually happy about seeing him. His wide grin puts him at ease, and it’s something he hasn’t felt in a while.

There’s also this weird spark that ignites behind his sternum every time Yamaguchi laughs or touches him, but something about it makes him anxious at the same time, as weird as it is. He shoves it into a corner of his mind, somewhere it can wait a while until he finally gets a grip on his rebellious feelings.

This is fucked up, he thinks at times. He, Tsukishima Kei, so mature and serious and dependable, calm and collected, feels like a high schooler again, and he means it in a bad sense. He’s found himself in the middle of something he doesn’t quite know – something he’s always made fun of. This is not what he expected while coming back to town. Everything he wanted was to get some time alone, to clear his head since his mother made him pay this unfortunate visit anyway.

It was supposed to be a quick one. Kei didn’t want to waste his time – he really had better things to do than sitting in a barely decent restaurant and listening to his parents’ chatter or walking to the bookstore and back every single day; this is what he used to think, at least.

Now, he discovers that he doesn’t really mind, even though he would never admit it out loud. Tokyo only sounds cool – the reality is a bit harsher. When he thinks about his empty apartment and preparing meals only for himself, his brows automatically furrow.

He’ll have to go back eventually, though. He knows that; he’s not stupid. He told his mother he’d only stay in town for a couple of weeks, and the clock is ticking.

He should probably start packing his suitcase; he does not think about Yamaguchi Tadashi at all when he realises that.

 

Yamaguchi’s not even surprised when he sees him entering the shop now, and as much as it makes him feel strange – something he doesn’t want to admit to slowly unfolding in his chest – the sight is also pretty pleasant. Yamaguchi looks up from the computer when he hears the door open, then a wide smile appears on his face, somehow making his freckles stand out even more, and Tsukishima would lie if he said he didn’t like that.

“Hi, Tsukki!” the boy greets him, and Kei just nods, taking his headphones off.

It’s almost a routine, at this point – they subconsciously follow a pattern they’d created. This way, everything seems to go a bit smoother, although the blonde doesn’t think that they still need it. He looks around and realises that the Hana girl is not here today, again, which is good.

More than that, actually, since she’s getting at his nerves every time they as much as stand in the same room.

He doesn’t really know why, he thinks, approaching the counter. Yamaguchi’s already started his rant, talking about something happily – the weather at first and some random TV show later, easily transitioning from one subject to another.

He supposes there are multiple reasons.

Hana is definitely not his kind of person. He automatically narrows his eyes whenever he spots her, and there’s not much he can do about it. She’s loud and always excited and too eager. She _loiters_. Keeps looking at him, as if only waiting for him to snap.

He’s not planning on doing that.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

Kei snaps out of his thoughts, quickly adjusting his glasses to look at Yamaguchi properly. He curses under his breath, supposing that the boy asked him some question he was not able to catch. This is ridiculous, he snarls at himself, suddenly angry.

When he fixes his gaze at Yamaguchi, though, it gets to him that the boy’s not really waiting for him to answer some inquiry about a book or a TV show or whatever he can possibly come up with – he doesn’t tilt his head like he always does when expecting a response; there are no gleaming eyes and encouraging smiles.

Instead, Yamaguchi’s looking down at his hands, biting his lip, subconsciously tapping a rhythm against the wooden counter with his fingers, and this is something Tsukishima doesn’t quite recognise from the past. It makes a thought pop up in his mind – he nearly forgot that they are not the same people anymore. Yamaguchi might’ve seemed like his old self, but there are sides of him now that Kei finds unfamiliar, as if placed in an uncharted territory. These gestures are like a reminder.

_Don’t get too optimistic._

He ignores the thought.

“Hm?” he mutters, letting the boy know that he’s listening, “What?”

Yamaguchi peers up at him – Kei’s still taller, because Yamaguchi might’ve grown but not as the only one  - and now it’s obvious that he feels uneasy. The tension is visible around his eyes, in the way the corners of his mouth quiver just a tiny bit. Tsukishima doesn’t know what he has in mind, what he’s planning on saying; but suddenly it occurs to him that maybe he should tell him that he’s preparing to leave. There’s not much time he has left.

He’s decided to leave in four days. The thought makes his throat tighten, but Tsukishima can’t afford to spend more time around here, regardless of whether he wants to or not. He needs to finish all these books he’s started reading; clean his apartment, even if only a little, get used to his life in Tokyo again, alone.

Something in the back of his head whispers that Yamaguchi’s probably not going to be too happy about this information.

He’ll let him speak first, he decides. He looks anxious enough now. He’ll say whatever he has to say and then, maybe, he’ll relax a bit.

As if that was supposed to make delivering the news easier, somehow.

“I know it…” Yamaguchi finally starts, so Kei focuses on that instead, “I know it might be a weird question, but can I ask you something?”

 _You just have_ , is the first thing that comes to his mind, but he decides not to say it. The boy’s voice sounds strangled enough as it is. He’s never liked seeing Yamaguchi like that because it meant that something'd happened.

Kei nods, raising one eyebrow.

Visibly forcing himself to relax, Yamaguchi licks his lips, then smiles. It’s a weak smile, though, and the atmosphere between then suddenly becomes tense, even though the blonde doesn’t really know why exactly. They are lucky that there’s no one else in the shop at the moment.

“I, um… Did you…” he stammers, “What did... Hana say to you?”

That… is unexpected.

“What?”

Yamaguchi clears his throat.

“She told me that you two had talked,” he confesses, but the statement turns out more like another question, “I… did she say something weird?”

Kei is not sure how he should react to this, because right now his feeling are mixed, but confusion is definitely winning.

“Why?” he just asks, and the word could probably mean several different things – _Why do you want to talk about Hana? Why do you need to know? Is that really so important?_

“She doesn’t want to tell me,” Yamaguchi blurts out, a blush of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks, covering the freckles, “It bothers me, I… I know it’s stupid and all, but…”

He ends the sentence with a sigh, one that makes his whole body slouch. Kei still doesn’t really understand why Yamaguchi would want to know anything about the things this girl said to him – there’s not much to talk about anyway, since they were all ridiculous and plainly absurd – some part of him doesn’t think that Yamaguchi hearing any of this is a good idea, though.

He waves his hand dismissively.

“That was nothing important,” he lies. Yamaguchi swallows. “That’s why she doesn’t want to tell you, probably. Not much to talk about.”

Kei shrugs, but apparently it’s not enough to brush Yamaguchi off.

“She said that it would be better if _you_ told me about it, whatever that is,” he speaks. His words start being more insistent, sparks of stubbornness hidden behind a layer of request.

Kei grits his teeth.

Hana is definitely _not_ his kind of person.

“We only talked for a few minutes, Yamaguchi, maybe even less,” he sneers, hiding his hands in his pockets just to ball them into fists without Yamaguchi noticing because _goddamn it, does he hate this girl_ , “What do you think, how high are the chances of us having a life-changing conversation in such a short period of time?”

Yamaguchi’s face gets even redder, but the glint in his eyes doesn’t vanish.

“But she did say something strange, didn’t she?” he presses, “Please, Tsukki. I know it’s rude, but whatever, could you please tell me? Since it’s not so important anyway? What difference does it make to you?”

A huge one, the truth is, but that he cannot say.

Lying is the only option left, then.

“Fine, fine,” he rolls his eyes, slightly turning his head. Lying to Yamaguchi is something he’s never liked doing. “She only said that I – “

And then the door opens.

A woman and a child come in. She shoots them a confused glance – Tsukishima hasn’t realised, but they are a little closer to each other than they should be, both slightly leaning forward. He steps back as Yamaguchi stutters a greeting and a “ _How can I help you?_ ” that doesn’t sound cheerful enough.

Kei breathes in, then out.

“Anyway, I should get going, Yamaguchi,” he mutters, "It's getting late."

Both the boy and the woman flit their gazes towards him.

“No, wait…” Yamaguchi starts, but then the kid starts screaming because of something, and he flinches at the sound. There’s something in his eyes the blonde doesn’t want to mull over.

He quickly gets out of the bookstore, leaving Yamaguchi with the customer and her yelling child, and it's only when a blow of cold breeze hits his face when he remembers:

_I didn’t tell him I was going back to Tokyo._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, does it start getting interesting in this chapter.
> 
> I was listening to Adele's new "Hello" while writing because THIS SONG MAKES ME THINK ABOUT THIS STORY A LOT.

 

 

He really tries not to let it get to him, but it’s harder than he’d previously assumed.

Yamaguchi thinks about it while talking to clients – the woman and her child first and the next three other people who come in later; making mistakes when he counts the money or stuttering when he has to make himself hold a decent conversation about something more than the weather outside or the change or prices of the books. People don’t really pay attention to that, assuming that he either is very tired or very clumsy.

It’s in his head when he finally comes back home, too, shutting the door and answering his mother’s kind greeting. He hopes his voice sounds pretty normal as he does so.

“How’s your day been, Tadashi?” she asks, turning her had to look at him over her shoulder. She’s cooking something, and he only catches a glimpse of her face before she flits her gaze back to what’s on the stove.

He doesn’t really know what to reply.

Nothing really happened, after all. It was a pretty ordinary day at work. Hana didn’t show up today, but her mother came instead, and Yamaguchi wouldn’t complain about the lack of assignments anyway, because there was constantly something to take care of or someone to talk to. He tries being reasonable since that’s the right thing to do. It was fine, would be a normal answer. He’d tell her about an especially uncertain client or a woman who bought six books at once and then barely managed to lift the bag from the counter or how Mrs. Ayaka yelled at him for being too slow.

For a second, though, he hesitates. There’s a part of him – a tiny one, one he’s been trying to get rid of for a while now – that wants to say the truth. He’s never been too keen on confiding in his mother, mainly because he simply never really had to. Tsukki had been near, listening, since he could remember – until they split up, that is – and after that, Tadashi’s been too busy and hurt to as much as think about talking to someone about _his_ problems. A habit he’d developed, one of analysing and then tuning out any trouble, seemed to be enough – at night, when the rest of the world was asleep, it was easier to swallow the lump in his throat.

But he knows that something shifted the moment Tsukki got out of the shop earlier today, and about that, he does not know what to do.

So he hesitates. _Tsukki is in back in town_ , _Mom_ , he wants to say _. I’d thought we were getting better, but he run away today, and that’s something he’s never done before. I don’t know what it means._

 _I’m kind of scared,_ he wants to say.

And usually, Yamaguchi _talks_ ; he knows he does it a lot; but not always about what’s really important to him.

His mother turns to look at him again, her gaze observant, because it’s taking him too long to answer a question that simple. The words are on his tongue when he opens his mouth, and he knows he deserves to say them out loud, because he’s been waiting long enough, hasn’t he?

It’s selfish, but for once, he doesn’t want to be the one helping others. He wants others to help _him_. He’s not a grown up. He doesn’t want to be.

His mother’s frown deepens; Tadashi draws in a breath and swallows and –

And then his father comes into the kitchen, his steps loud, silhouette tall but thin. He stops as he realises that he probably interrupted something, even though it’s likely neither of them knows what exactly.

“Hi, Tadashi,” he speaks, and whatever’s been on Yamaguchi’s tongue, dies out in a second.

The tiny, self-centred part of his mind gives up, and Tadashi blinks.

He’s not the one in need, he reminds himself, not really knowing if it’s shame or anger that makes his cheeks burn all of a sudden. He’s fine; will be fine. There are other priorities than his pathetic old crush and troubles he stubbornly keeps making up.

There are things more important than him.

“Sorry, I spaced out,” he says, sending his mother an embarrassed look and his father a kind smile. It strikes him how tight his throat feels, so he swallows. “Today was pretty ordinary at work, to be honest. Nothing new. How are you feeling, Dad?”

Whatever hesitation he felt, he’s already tucked it away by the time his father answers.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Tadashi pretends not to see the look his mother shoots him before turning back to what she’s cooking. It makes him feel a little bit guilty.

He doesn’t have to be a grown up, he thinks. For now, he just has to pretend to be one.

 

His parents don’t notice the dark circles under his eyes the next day, so he leaves to work accompanied only by the slight tightness of his chest and the even ticking of the clock. It’s still pretty early, but Tadashi hopes that the silence and calm in the bookstore will put his mind at ease somehow, even if only partially.

He didn’t really sleep well; or, barely slept at all. Instead of resting, he spent the hours at night tossing and turning and worrying, thinking about what it was that Hana had said – wanting to know and being afraid of it at the same time.

He’s felt like it before, but this time it’s deeper and scarier than ever, settled somewhere inside him, hidden.

Now, though, it’s only a seed of something bigger, something he hopes never blooms fully, because that would change a lot of things and it’s something he does not want to happen. That’s why Tadashi shoves it somewhere into a corner, buries; tries to carry on.

It always takes him a while to get to work, but this morning it feels as if the pavement was never going to end; when Yamaguchi muffles a third yawn in a row, he comes to the conclusion that if he doesn’t wake up soon, sleep will fall upon him in the least expected moment.

So he gets a coffee.

It’s sweet and good, but he only drinks a quarter of it before a thought runs through his head.

_When Tsukki comes in today, I wonder if he notices that I haven’t slept._

Tadashi thinks that there’s no reason for him to, even though he used to see every little evidence of it back in high school. They are different people now; he repeats it like a mantra, as if that was supposed to make him feel less attached somehow. There was a time when he believed it worked – he could see the way he adjusted, how his mind adapted and accepted the new situation. He never changed fully, though – that’s why he let himself believe that Tsukki didn’t, either, that the division he came up with – the one into old and new, past and present – wasn’t entirely correct.

That’s why he hopes the blonde will notice something today, as silly as it is.

And maybe if he does, Tadashi will find the courage to ask him again. Perhaps this time they will talk properly.

Perhaps, he thinks as he takes a sip of his coffee, it won’t be so bad.

 

Tsukki doesn’t come.

It’s unexpected and completely reasonable at the same time. At first, when Tadashi realises that there are thirty minutes left until the end of his shift, he starts worrying – if something happened to the blonde, if something happened to his parents. Then, it occurs to him, though, that it’s logical.

It’s a bitter thought, but a true one, too.

Tsukki never liked confrontations; he avoided them whenever he could. If something made him uncomfortable or unsure, he did his best to ignore it. That was how it’s always been – it’s a side of him which Yamaguchi knows. It hasn’t changed.

Hana didn’t come today, either, and as he closes the shop, the keys jingling, he has to supress the urge to sigh. Tsukki may not particularly like the girl, but the two of them really do have some things in common. He wonders if she’s afraid to come.

He knows he would be, whatever it was that she said.

It’s not dark outside yet, but the day’s windy and grey; Yamaguchi shivers it the cool breeze. He wants to go home because freezing in the cold longer than necessary is not something he’s especially keen on doing. He heads down the street, hands in the pockets of his jacket, his breath a barely visible puff in the air. It’s a calm evening.

He doesn’t feel calm at all.

A part of him wants to believe that it’s difficult to pinpoint what it is that he’s feeling, but somewhere in the back of his head he knows. It’s fear, gnawing at the inside of his chest; disappointment, making his throat tighten; a little bit of hope and a tiny dose of attachment.

Above all else, though, there’s stubbornness; Tadashi doesn’t want to experience another sleepless night again, doesn’t want to ponder on what Hana’d said or Tsukki’d meant to tell him. He wants to _know_.

That is why he tries to not shake too much as he sends a text to Tsukki and not to panic too much when he finds himself in front of the blonde’s house a few minutes later. He hopes the blonde’s mother can’t see him – Mrs. Tsukishima is a lovely woman, but even if it’s pretty hard to recall the last time he talked to her, he has to focus on other things right now.

He’ll do this. They’ll only talk.

It’s not until he sees the front door open when he starts to falter.

Tsukki comes out, a confused frown visible on his face even in the greyish light of the evening, and it only deepens when he finally spots Yamaguchi. He approaches him in only a couple of steps – too quickly for Tadashi to brace himself. He should’ve thought about it more, he realises, should’ve mulled it over.

“Yamaguchi?” Tsukki says as a _hello_. He doesn’t even have a jacket on, only a sweater.

He’s so in love with him it’s almost impossible.

“Hi,” he speaks, then swallows.

“What are you doing here?” the blonde asks, his voice somewhat odd, just a tiny bit, and Tadashi wonders if it’s because he’s imagining things or not.

“You…” he forces himself to say, then stops. Suddenly, he feels ridiculous. “You didn’t come today.”

Tsukki looks… taken aback for a second, but then he adjusts his glasses, focuses his gaze on something behind Yamaguchi and shrugs.

“Yeah, I didn’t really have time.”

This is what he expected. He’s not sure if it’s a lie, it doesn’t sound like one, though. He suddenly doesn’t know what to think.

“So I…” he stutters, “Sorry, it’s stupid, but I…”

Tadashi licks his lips nervously; when he peers up at Tsukki, he finds him looking at him now, a question in his eyes.

“Did something happen?” the blonde asks. It’s a difficult question to answer – at first, Yamaguchi wants to say yes, _yes, a lot happened, you run away_ , but then it occurs to him that it’s not what the boy means, so he decides not to reply directly.

“I… think we should talk about yesterday.”

It’s almost visible how the blonde tenses, and this time Tadashi’s certain it’s not a delusion. He expects the confidence to appear at the sight, only a bit of it flickers in his chest, though, weighed down by insecurity.

But he still needs to know.

“I know I’m intrusive,” he starts. Tsukki sets his gaze on something Yamaguchi can’t see. “I know I’m annoying, Tsukki, really. But… it’s important. I told you yesterday and…”

“Why do you need to know so badly?” the boy cuts in. There are sparks of something in his voice, but Yamaguchi’s never been the best at reading other people’s emotions. This time is no different.

He wishes he could answer this question in the simplest way, but he cannot. Not now, not yet.

“I…” he says, but the rest of the words just catch in his throat. “Hana…”

Tsukki finally locks his gaze with his, though. He’s relieved at first – for a split second he hopes that it will make the conversation easier. Then, he discovers that the golden eyes are hard and almost cold and it sends shivers down his spine.

Tsukki is angry, all of a sudden.

“Hana, hm? Why is this girl always involved in everything?” he drawls. His pupils are narrow. “Why doesn’t _she_ tell you, since you two get along so great?”

There’s something about this situation he feels like is slipping out of his reach – some meaning he can’t quite understand – but Yamaguchi decides to set it slide, focusing on keeping his nervousness in check instead.

“I told you, she said it would be better if I asked _you_ , not _her_ ,” he explains as calmly as possible, “Listen, I just need…”

He hasn’t seen Tsukki this annoyed in… a long while. Tadashi doesn’t really know what caused it and, more importantly, how to stop it, because the change of the mood between them happened so abruptly that the air feels almost dense. Maybe he did something. Maybe mentioning Hana wasn’t a good idea.

This conversation seems to spin out of control a little.

“Tsukki, please,” he tries again. It’s a bit strangled, a bit desperate. “I’m your friend, can’t you – “

“Are you, Yamaguchi?” the blonde snaps and…

At that, it all stops for a second.

Yamaguchi freezes with his mouth parted and the words already formed on his tongue. His breath hitches in his throat, and  suddenly everything he’s able to do is to stare at Tsukki, eyes wide open. The look on Tsukishima’s face is so odd it confuses him.

But then the world starts spinning again.

The words start to _sting._ They hurt, harsh and blunt. It’s a sharp sensation, as if someone put a needle in the middle of his chest.

He looks at the blonde for what it seems a second too long; then something ignites behind his sternum.

It all goes downhill from there.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the most difficult chapter to write, GOD.  
> It's full of confused feelings, anger and words that shouldn't have been spoken, but either way, I hope I managed to convey everything pretty decently...  
> Sorry for any mistakes, I'll try to take care of them later, it's almost midnight here where I live, and I'm exhausted.

 

 

He’s furious.

It’s not something Tsukishima feels very often – he doesn’t even feel it as much as rarely, because it’s still less than that; all these moments can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Surprisingly enough, though, nearly every single one of them somehow involves Yamaguchi.

Kei grits his teeth.

His hands are almost shaking. His breath is slightly uneven, head spinning, and he barely registers what the words spilling from his mouth mean. His usual composure is gone, lost somewhere between his snarls and Yamaguchi’s wide eyes; the spark of unsettlement that appeared in his chest at the sight of the boy in front of his house is now a fire raging, engulfing everything they worked so hard on building.

It was gradual; started with slight restlessness, then turning into nervousness and finally taking the form of fear, kind of instinctual, kind of foolish, but authentic. It all quickly got hazy, the rush of blood in his head, to the point when he actually started getting angry at Yamaguchi for being so intrusive.

But then something shifted.

And for a second, his mind was clear again, almost painfully sharp – when the boy mentioned Hana. She was the trigger, or this is what he tells himself at least; she was the catalyst for his rage – suddenly, he couldn’t bear the sound of her name on Yamaguchi’s lips, couldn’t bear the memory of seeing her with him, and Kei saw red. _Why is this girl always involved_ , he thought for a split second, _in everything and everywhere?_ This is not her fucking business – he and Yamaguchi, and whatever it is that they are now, whatever it is that Tsukishima feels.

This is where the panic and the fury began.

And he can’t bear it – the dread in his head, the fact that he’s so confused, enraged, so _scared_ , and it only makes everything worse, because none of these emotions are really familiar, not when they’re that intensified.

So he snaps, and something changes, and he snarls, in the heat of the moment, because he has to do _something_ , anything; because Yamaguchi cannot know what is happening to him and, more importantly, _why_.

The words leave his mouth quicker than he’s able to comprehend, but as soon as they do – as soon as Yamaguchi freezes, eyes wide, disbelieving – he realises that for the first time in his life, he’s questioned their friendship.

This is when it all starts to crumble.

“What?” Yamaguchi breathes out, and it sounds as if someone punched him in the stomach. “How… how can you say that?”

Tsukishima narrows his eyes, and the clarity of his mind vanishes, turning into a sharp smile on his lips.

Isn’t what he said true, after all?

“Are you really my friend, Yamaguchi?” he repeats, and the boy in front of him flinches at the question. “Do you really think in such a naïve way? You can’t actually think that, come on.”

Yamaguchi looks up at him, shoulders squared, but Kei finds it a rather desperate move.

“Why can’t I?” the boy asks.

Tsukishima scoffs. This time, Yamaguchi doesn’t flinch, his gaze steady.

“Because I actually thought you’ve already left the world of delusions behind,” is his response – sharp, harsh, bitter on his tongue.

But he’s always been the best at defence, and this is the only way he knows how to defend himself now, when it comes to Yamaguchi. They are not friends; Kei is not sure if they’re something less or more, but his head is spinning and his mind is hazy and he can’t figure it out now.

That only annoys him more.

Yamaguchi’s brow furrow. He looks down at the ground but then peers back up right away, and this time, there’s something cold about it.

“And I thought you’ve already stopped being such an asshole.”

This… stings, but only for a second.

“Some things never change, I’m afraid,” he spits.

For a moment, he’s nearly sure that something glints in Yamaguchi’s big, so wide, so infuriatingly familiar eyes, but then it’s gone, so he assumes it was an illusion.

“Some don’t change, but some do,” the boy speaks, then stops, abruptly. Tsukishima wants to ask, scowling – _What does it have to do anything?_ – but then Yamaguchi swallows and straightens up.

“And I don’t know what I did to you, Tsukki, I don’t know what your problem with me is, but I won’t apologize, you know?” he's the one to snap now, looking him in the eye. “I’m sick of apologizing for things I don’t have any influence on, like my father, or not going to Tokyo with you or everthing else.”

Despite the confident behaviour, there’s an edge to his voice, one that reminds Kei of their school years, one that appeared every time Yamaguchi was about to cry, and that makes Tsukishima stop for a second.

But then he realises that whatever he says now, the damage is done.

“Well, I never asked you to apologize for anything.”

“Never asked me?” Yamaguchi scoffs now, and then something breaks, but the boy doesn’t start crying, no. The atmosphere between them changes again – tenses even more. “You didn’t have to ask me! You expected me to, that was enough!”

Kei’s throat tightens from frustration at this sudden attack.

“And who told you that? Because I sure didn’t.” he snarls, the fire inside of him getting gradually wilder again. “Or did you figure it out yourself, genius?”

“I can’t believe you really think you need to _tell_ me what to do,” Yamaguchi exhales. He seems exasperated.

Tsukishima sets his jaw, teeth clenched so hard it’s actually painful.

“Well, this is what our friendship was all about.” The sentence is brimming with badly controlled rage and lots of spite. “Me, telling you what to do.” And then, before Yamaguchi can retort, his eyes shiny and hands balled into fists, Tsukishima continues because a memory flashes in his mind. “Do you still want to know what it is that Hana told me? Great, let me tell you. She said that you changed since I came back to town. Seemed different around me, more cheerful, more lively, as she put it – that she had no idea what’d happened in the past to make you change so much, but it surely had something to do with me and I should _fix it_.”

He stops to draw a breath, half expecting Yamaguchi to use the moment of silence and snap something right back at him –

Nothing like that happens, though.

The boy’s quiet, still, mouth slightly parted, his gaze on the blonde. He looks… shocked, but then, in the blink of an eye this puzzled expression on his face melts into a different one.

This one, Tsukishima cannot read.

“Is that…” he starts, then clears his throat, voice barely audible now, compared with his previous frustrated, angry shouts. “Is that why you’d been coming to the shop? Because of what she’d said?”

Yamaguchi’s voice breaks, right in the middle of the sentence, and it makes Kei’s throat clench. The malevolent response he had up his sleeve dies on his lips.

“Is it, Tsukki?” the boy asks again, when the blonde doesn’t respond.

 _No_ , he thinks, _no, it’s not, but if you want an answer that is completely honest, I can’t give it to you yet._

He wishes he could say the words out loud.

“Because if it is,” Yamaguchi says, just after a second, as if he changed his mind about something, and his voice nearly cracks again, “I want you to know that you don’t have to feel guilty anymore. I don’t need your pity, I never have. You don’t… owe me anything. I don’t owe you anything. You can… go back to Tokyo and finally leave me alone.”

This time, his words really do sting – but it’s for a reason Tsukishima doesn’t really want to admit, so he chooses to say the first thing that comes to his mind instead of pondering over the meaning of this feeling, whatever it is.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you anymore. I’m leaving in three days anyway, actually.”

When Yamaguchi peers up at him now, he really looks like he’s about to cry, but again, he doesn’t.

“Oh,” he merely chokes out, then shifts his weight and hides his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Yeah,” Tsukishima confirms, even if he doesn’t really know what. “I guess I’ll leave you alone sooner than you thought, huh?”

A part of him hopes to provoke some kind of response from the boy – anything, really, but Yamaguchi only nods his head.

“I’m glad we put the record straight, then,” he just says. “Have a safe trip back to Tokyo.”

And with that he leaves, quickly and abruptly, vanishing behind the corner, in the shadows, because it slowly starts getting dark here, outside.

Tsukishima doesn’t stop him.

 

 

Later, when Yamaguchi is long gone and their argument is starting to slowly turn into a memory, Kei takes his suitcase out from under the bed, opens it and starts packing.

It is an arduous activity, one that takes him too much time in comparison with the progress. For now, he only packs the things he knows he won’t need – the books he’d read, some clothes – and he makes himself gather all the things he can think of, then neatly arrange them in his suitcase, even though he doesn’t really like doing it.

He doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he would, though.

It’s not like he has a good reason to, anyway. This is his parents’ house, of course, and he’d missed it – missed them – as well as the town itself, but it doesn’t really matter. His parents will be fine without him.

Yamaguchi will be, too. He’d made it clear enough.

He should have already left him alone a long ago. It would be better this way, for him, and for Yamaguchi, too, he’s sure of it now. The blonde had almost managed to get used to being alone – to studying late at night, unbothered, to waking up and falling asleep in the same, cold bed, to turning the TV on, only to listen to someone else talking.

They should’ve left this matter alone, instead of bringing it up. Kei feels like he was supposed to realise it earlier. If he did, it would prevent this argument, the fight even worse than the one they’d had before he left for Tokyo, traded the feeling of safety and his relationship with Yamaguchi for bright future and a city that was never really asleep.

He should have left him alone.

And he would’ve, if he could.

It is an all-too-well known thought, one he’s almost used to by now, one that worms its way into his mind when he’s either very tired in the night or still fuzzy from sleep in the morning. It would be so much easier if he could just leave it all behind, get used to the present situation instead of mulling over the past that wasn’t really his anymore. This is what he was thinking in Tokyo, but also every time he entered the bookstore and saw Yamaguchi’s freckled face and bright smile, when he relaxed at the sight.

Back then, though, he let these thoughts slide. He still had time, and perhaps, still had a chance, after all.

He can’t do that now, though.

He doesn’t have a chance anymore. _Don’t get too optimistic_ , he’d said to himself once, and thought he was doing fine with it, but maybe he was wrong this whole time.

It makes his throat tighten, but only for a second, and it’s nothing anyway, at least when compared with how he felt during the fight earlier today. So many different emotions – fear, anger, panic, desperation; Kei’s not used to that. It started with Hana but ended with Yamaguchi and… he didn’t expect it to turn out this way. What they’d said – what he’d said – was not supposed to be spoken about, not like that, not this way.

Some of it wasn’t even true.

Tsukishima smiles to himself briefly, bitterly, looking down at the books and clothes neatly arranged at the bottom of the suitcase at his feet.

 _Even if we didn’t fight_ , he thinks, because it’s something he’s repeated to himself a couple of times by now, _we wouldn’t have a chance anyway._

Yamaguchi belongs here, in this tiny, calm town, but Tsukishima doesn’t, not anymore. He started to feel less like a guest and more like a resident and it felt _good_ , to be around Yamaguchi in the way it all used to be, but now he’s back in the square one, because Yamaguchi’s not here anymore and it would be utterly stupid to expect him to show up anytime soon.

This time, he’s not going to try and change that.

He crouches down with a sigh, closes his suitcase and wants to shove it back under the bed first, but then, after a second of hesitation, he doesn’t. Instead, he leaves it in the corner of his room, because suddenly, it feels like a reminder, as stupid as it may sound.

He doesn’t belong in his town. He and Yamaguchi are not even friends anymore, not after what they’d said to each other today, after the screams and choked out words and clenched teeth.

Whatever it is that he feels, and whether he’d tell the boy or not, they wouldn’t make it.

 _It’s time to go back_ , he thinks.

There’s nothing really left for him here, anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all going to end with my death, let me tell you. I'm going to die because of those stupid kids one day.
> 
> I'd been working on this chapter for a while and then I discovered "Teen Wolf". This is my excuse. I know I'm probably like, three years late, but whatever!  
> Also, this story had its first birthday in November, which is insane? Thank you for reading this crap this whole time, guys, you have no idea hom much it actually means to me!  
> Please enjoy the new chapter, it's full of angst and thinking.

 

 

The morning is nice. Cold and crisp, it makes people stop for a second on the street, just so they can inhale some refreshing air, just so they can actually notice it. There’s winter around the corner, and it’s almost obvious at this point – visible in the naked silhouettes of the trees, audible in the song of a lonely bird. The world around seems grey, nearly desolate, devoid of colours that were once there.

Yamaguchi Tadashi pays attention to it all.

As he goes down the street, one step after another, he takes it in – the clouded sky above him, the grey, cracked pavement underneath him, damp grass, cold breeze. He’s never been too perceptive, but this morning it seems like he is, even if only for a moment. People seem to talk louder than usual, their voices echoing in his head. There’s mist in the air that almost feels like some kind of veil. He feels colder; has to stop the urge to shiver.

When he closes the door of the bookstore behind him, the sensation of pensiveness follows inside, a fellow comrade by his side.

Then, the day begins.

Customers come and go, rushing somewhere, their hair a mess and moves quick; some of them neat and silent, as if never in a hurry, some needing help, some leaving without a word. The door opens, just to close a second later, then to open again.

This is a small town, though. The stream of people has to end at some point and it does, eventually – Yamaguchi realises that suddenly, he’s alone in the room, surrounded only by shelves. It’s so quiet he can almost hear his own heartbeat.

This is bad.

He shouldn’t be alone; he hoped that –when he finally gets to work – he won’t get a chance to. Usually, there was no problem with finding something to get occupied with, either it was cleaning the floor or rearranging the shelves or something else. Now, though, the atmosphere in here is slowly starting to turn into dangerously drowsy and he can feel the pensiveness in the air again.

He doesn’t want to… think.

He’s done too much of that already - first when he saw Tsukishima back in town, then when they met, again and again and again; about what Hana told him, about why the blonde’d been doing all of these things that Yamaguchi couldn’t really understand that well.

And about the fight, of course.

Yamaguchi’s already thought about every word, every gesture, every look and move and sound, and it’s been _terrifying_. He couldn’t help but to analyse it, over and over again – what he’d said, what Tsukki’d said, what they’d both destroyed. It took him the whole night – staring at the ceiling, watching the darkness turn into the light, _mulling over_.

 _“I won’t apologize for things I don’t have any influence on,”_ Yamaguchi told him but it quickly turned out to be almost impossible to accomplish. Blaming himself is nearly a part of him, he thinks, it’s in the marrow of his bones, it runs in his blood. Yamaguchi can’t help but wonder – what would happen if he didn’t let himself get so carried away, if he didn’t mention Hana, if he never came to see the blonde in the first place. What he does is neither healthy nor fair, he knows – he promised himself not to do this, promised to be stronger.

Sometimes, though, it’s harder than usual.

He’s apologized to Tsukki before, more times than either of them could count, more than he’s willing to admit to. It took different forms, depending on the circumstances – there was his usual, hurried _“Sorry, Tsukki!”_ during practice or their walks back home; small smiles when he realised he’d said something he shouldn’t have; slumped shoulders and bowed head when he messed up a serve; buying lunch; adjusting the pace of his steps on the pavement.

And there was also the last kind, the apology he only used once, the apology that never really got to work. This one was the hardest, subtle in the beggining, increasingly more intense, until it turned out to be useless anyway. This one was all about frequent phone calls and text messages and eager blabbering and _attention_ , saying: _“You left but you’re still important”_ , saying: _“I’m sorry, please let me fix this”._

And Yamaguchi tried, really. He never really succeeded, though, but that’s a fact he’s managed to come to terms with, slowly, one step at a time.

Now, it’s different, though. The fight they had was different – worse, much worse than the previous one, even though he’d thought it was nearly impossible. There’s not much to save anymore, he realises, not much left of their friendship and it’s a bitter reflection, but a true one, too. He tried and failed.

He is supposed to be over this… hopeless feeling in his chest, something that has always been worthless.

There’s the sound of the door opening as a lonely client comes in, a barely audible creak that makes Yamaguchi flinch a little, snap out of all the thoughts in a second. He jerks, noticing that he’s been gripping at the counter, almost too tight, and heaves a sight as he tries to relax.

Since the person who came back to town was the new Tsukishima – someone he couldn’t really recognise most of the time, someone he couldn’t even call _“Tsukki”_ anymore -  maybe there should be a new Yamaguchi, too, he thinks. Someone who wouldn’t feel guilty, wouldn’t feel the need to apologize for the smallest mistake, wouldn’t be… him.

Maybe it’s high time he finally becomes this person.

And that’s why Yamaguchi breathes in, forces a smile and straightens up. He helps the client, an amiable greeting on his lips, then another, and the day continues.

Only later does he realise it wasn’t pensiveness that he felt in the morning, but just a tiny bit of emptiness in his chest.

Unfortunately, the said emptiness follows.

 

Emptiness should feel, by any means, light. It should be hollow and non-existent in a way, and for a very brief moment, one that passes in a blink of an eye, Yamaguchi has the feeling that it is.

Then, it suddenly isn’t anymore.

It’s when he tosses and turns in his bed, awake even though the midnight came and went away hours ago. One minute he’s moderately fine – as fine as he can get at the moment, at least – and then, seemingly out of nowhere there’s this pressure behind his sternum, a weight he can’t get rid of, something that pushes the air out of his lungs.

His eyes are watering, but he curls into himself and doesn’t let the tears as much as appear.

The alarm clock on his nightstand counts the passing seconds with a painfully loud, steady sound, ruining the surrounding silence of the night over and over again.

 _Two days_ , Yamaguchi can’t help but think, tired and drowsy and sad, perhaps even a little bit heartbroken – just a tiny bit, really - and right here, right now, all these emotions are somehow easier to accept. _Two days until Tsukki leaves._

When he wakes up the next morning, the first thought in his mind is _“Tomorrow”._

In a way he cannot fully comprehend, this single word feels like running out of time.

 

It’s around noon when the door to the bookstore open swiftly, letting some of the cold breeze in and Yamaguchi shivers involutraily, lifting his head to greet the customer, when he discovers that the person coming in isn’t really one.

It’s Hana.

Her steps are light, quick, feet barely touching the floor at all. The tip of her nose is pink – as well as the tips of her ears, Yamaguchi notices. She smiles at him, a pretty smile that would make anyone smile back at her right away, without even thinking much about it.

“Hi, Yamaguchi-kun,” she greets him, still beaming.

When he wants to answer, though, and opens his mouth, not even a sound leaves his lips and that kind of surprises both of them.

Yamaguchi quickly covers it up with a forced smile – makes the corners of his lips lift up, even if only just a tiny bit, then hiding behind the computer screen. Hana is not stupid, though, and she seems thrown off. She eyes him, surprised at first and suspicious later, and Yamaguchi can feel the stare at his back even as she takes off her coat and goes to the back of the shop to hang it there. She only disappears for a couple of seconds, but he uses then the best he can.

“Get it together,” he mutters to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “Get it together, you’re fine.”

It helps, only if just a little, and when Hana comes back, he manages to greet her properly, even though he doesn’t miss the way she glances at him.

“Sorry, I was thinking about something,” he explains with an apologizing smile on his lips, shrugging it all off. Nothing really happened anyway, right?

 He kind of expects Hana to leave after an hour or so – that would be reasonable, since she doesn’t actually get paid for coming in here and helping – but she stays. Rearranges the books on the shelves, cleans off the dust, just like she usually does, and at some point Yamaguchi relaxes into it all because it is _familiar_. He knows this – the leisure atmosphere, low buzzing of the computer, the way the floor creaks sometimes, muttering of the customers. Hana seems kind of confused by something – throws strange glances at him when she thinks he cannot see – but it’s okay.

 _Tomorrow_ , he thinks in the back of his head from time to time; the word echoes. _It’s tomorrow._

It’s when they’re about to close when Hana finally speaks up.

“Alright,” she says, then looks around as if to make sure that they are the only people left in the room, “Yamaguchi, what’s wrong?”

He lifts his head up to look at her and frowns slightly.

“What do you mean?”

Hana tilts her head.

“There’s… something off about you.” She makes a weird gesture with her hand, as if to emphasise whatever it is that she has in mind. “The whole day. Something happened, right?”

She seems not to know what she’s talking about herself, but Yamaguchi thinks he does. He’s been trying not to let it show - hoping that if he tries hard enough, nobody will notice anything – but maybe it’s not so easy. Hana’s always been pretty observant.

“No, nothing happened,” he says nevertheless. “I’m okay.”

She frowns, then comes up to the counter to get closer to him.

“Is it…” she swallows and continues, albeit somewhat unsure, “Does it have to do anything to do with this boy? Tsukishima?”

That… hurts a bit. Yamaguchi tenses.

“Why?” he finds himself asking before he can as much as _think._ “I told you, nothing happened.”

“He didn’t come today.” Hana explains. There’s something in her voice that after a second of cogitation Yamaguchi recognises as, surprisingly, worry. A spark of warmth ignites in his chest. “I was wondering why.”

He forces himself to shrug, even though he can already feel his throat clenching.

“He probably doesn’t have time for that,” he says, trying to make it sound nonchalant and failing, because suddenly, his voice almost breaks. He covers it up with an obviously forced snort. “He’s leaving tomorrow, I’m sure he has other things to do now.”

Hana doesn’t say anything at that. She just looks at him with these weird, pretty eyes of hers that seem to know too much about what he feels. The girl’s quiet long enough for Yamaguchi to actually relax just a little, to hope that she’s given up, but then she speaks again.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

It’s technically a question, but Hana makes it sound more like a statement Yamaguchi shouldn’t argue with.

He still does.

“No, of course not,” he claims, not really sure if it is a lie. There’s a strange feeling behind his sternum he cannot really name. “I said I’m fine, Hana. I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” she says stubbornly. Yamaguchi’s jaw tenses. “Yamaguchi, you practically haven’t smiled the whole day, I know – “

“Can you please leave this alone?”

“Let me – “

“Leave this alone, okay?!”

The words escape from his mouth before he can think better of it and then echo in the empty room. He realises that his jaw is tense, hands gripping the counter, and he swallows as Hana squares her shoulders but doesn’t say anything, waiting instead.

“I…” he starts, breathing in. The words feel bitter on his tongue, and it’s not a new sensation, not anymore. “I know what you told him, okay? We talked. Had a fight, actually. I know that he’d been coming here because he felt guilty. He took pity on me.”

His hands are trembling. He hides them behind his back.

“So thank you for the concern, but it’s not necessary, Hana. You’ve already done your part.”

Hana actually flinches at that, but keeps her gaze fixed on Yamaguchi. For a minute, their breathing is the only audible sound in the room.

“Yamaguchi, I didn’t…” she speaks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I only wanted to talk to him, I’m so sorry, can I – “

“No,” he answers the inquiry before Hana gets the chance to finish it because he realises that she sounds _guilty_ – that he made her feel that way – and it’s wrong. Wrong on more levels than one, because none of what happened between him and Tsukishima is her fault. “We… we’ve had some issues before. It just kind of blew up. I’m sorry, it’s not your fault, really.”

His voice cracks, and all he can do is hope that Hana didn’t catch it.

It’s already dark outside; he should go home. Yamaguchi grabs his jacket and puts it on as quickly as his still shaking hands let him, because he has to do something, _anything_ to keep himself occupied, before…

He breathes in, then out. It doesn’t help much. His head starts to hurt. There’s a lump in his throat he can’t ignore anymore.

“I should get going,” he says as a goodbye and rushes to the door, when Hana’s voice makes him stop.

“You are in love with him, aren’t you?”

It’s like a punch in the stomach, direct and ruthless, painful enough for the tears to abruptly blur his vision.

_I am._

He manages to leave the bookstore and head down the street, hiding behind the corner before he starts crying, and for a split second he hates himself; hates how weak he is, hates the fact that he still hasn’t learned anything, even though he should have.

It’s really dark now, though. His parents will worry if he doesn’t get home soon, he knows, so even though his hands are still trembling and his fingers are cold, Yamaguchi wipes the tears with the sleeve of his jacket, trying to get a hold on himself. He straightens up, taking a step forward but still looking at the ground, when –

He bumps into somebody. The person is taller than him, most likely much older, and he’s about to stutter a hasty apology just so he can finally _head home_ , but when he looks up, the words catch in his throat.

Out of all the people he could stumble upon…

It’s Tsukishima.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is THE chapter, guys. Oh my God, I'm so excited you finally get to know how it all ends! It's a little longer than usual, because, well, it all needed to be written properly. Go read it first, and then I'll talk.

 

 

He just can’t look away.

Tsukishima doesn’t think he’s ever really felt something like that before, as weird as it sounds - sudden attachment to a sight, being caught up, the slight confusion he doesn’t really understand. It’s dark and late – late enough for most of the people to head home, slowly but gradually leaving the streets of the town - too cold here outside, silent, and a part of his brain is aware of all these things. They make him feel chilly all over, echo somewhere in the back of his head.

He would never admit if asked, but for a split second – less than a blink of an eye and more than a thought passing through his mind – he’s nearly shocked.

He can’t look away – because it’s Yamaguchi, right here, in front of him, hair a mess, eyes big and just a tiny bit too shiny, breath leaving his parted lips in a puff of white air, barely visible in the poor light. If they were in Tokyo, Tsukishima thinks briefly, he would be able to see every little detail of his face, every freckle, because that city’s never dark or leisure. This one, on the other hand, is everything that Tokyo’s not.

“Yamaguchi?” he breathes, meaning for it to be a greeting at first, but it doesn’t really sound like one – it’s weirdly quiet and unsure. He quickly clears his throat as an attempt to conceal it.

Yamaguchi looks up at him, then shivers and tenses.

“Sorry, um…” he starts, suddenly peering back down. Tsukishima blinks, then scowls. “I… sorry. Hi.”

The boy’s fingers fumble with the rim of his jacket, twisting it, then letting go. It’s a nervous gesture, most likely a habit, even, one that Tsukishima doesn’t really recognise.

He wants to say something. He _should_ say something, a part of him keeps repeating, and there are many things that come to his mind. Everything he has to do is open his mouth, let the words flow, let the words make it better, even if just a little bit, because anything would be better than this peculiar, uncomfortable atmosphere around them. A memory flashes in his head – their meeting weeks ago, strangely alike; how they run into each other, how the street around them seemed nearly empty, how cold it was.

Many things changed, though, since that moment, and it’s as clear as day; they both can feel it, Tsukishima’s certain. If everything between them was okay, Yamaguchi would be already babbling about something unimportant, something like a TV show or an article he read, and it would be all so _easy_ – listening to him, being around him.

Now, it’s everything but.

So he settles for not talking at first. He’s never been good at it, he’s never been the one to start a conversation, not to mention keeping it going. He’ll always be the quiet and reserved type, one to answer rather than ask a question.

But then Yamaguchi shifts awkwardly, as if preparing to take a step back, to leave, and suddenly, there’s this weird feeling in his chest he doesn’t really want to ponder on. _You’re leaving tomorrow_ , a part of his mind snaps at him, a reminder he doesn’t need.

He swallows.

“How have you been?” he speaks, politely and neutrally, just as Yamaguchi breathes in, as if to say something, too. The sound of Tsukishima’s voice makes him freeze for a second, his lips slightly parted.

The boy keeps his gaze fixed on the ground as he forms a response. A woman passes them by on the sidewalk.

“I… fine.” His voice is small when he finally answers. “Why are you here so late?”

Tsukishima shrugs, then remembers that Yamaguchi’s not looking at him, so he makes a vague sound.

“I needed to buy some things before they close all the shops,” he says. It’s the truth, but at the same time it doesn’t really feel like one.

 _I’m leaving tomorrow_ , he wants to say but doesn’t. _I’m leaving, Yamaguchi, and I don’t know when I’m coming back._

He can almost taste the words on his tongue.

“Oh,” Yamaguchi says, though he doesn’t seem surprised and Tsukishima briefly wonders if he, perhaps, remembered, if he thought about it.

But then a part of his mind, the stubborn, down-to-earth one, reminds him – why would he? They are not even friends anymore, he thinks as the atmosphere between them gets heavy with perplexity, silence falling over the two of them again, all thanks to Tsukishima himself, and to the fight he’d started, the fight he’d ended. Yamaguchi’s not obligated to pay attention to any of this anymore; he’s not obligated to _care_.

It strikes him when the boy actually moves this time, takes a hesitant step back.

“Sorry,” he says, lifting his head a little, but still not enough to look Tsukishima in the eye, “but I should get going, it’s pretty late.”

Something about his demeanor is off, though, something Tsukishima can’t quite put a finger on – maybe it’s the way Yamaguchi’s voice almost falters at the end of the sentence, maybe it’s the fact that he’s stopped playing with his jacket, hiding his hands behind his back instead, maybe it’s because he’s shivering slightly, and Tsukishima doesn’t know if it’s because of the low temperature or something else.

Whatever it is, though, it makes him realise –

If he doesn’t stop him now, he never will. It may sound like a line from a cheesy drama – he wishes he could fleer at that – but that’s what strikes him; the exact thought. He watched him leave twice already – first years and then days ago, and he knows: this time, he won’t get another chance to fix things.

This time, he really doesn’t want him to leave.

Tsukishima grits his teeth.

“Wait,” he says, and it sounds weird, like a plea, a request. Yamaguchi stops. The blonde breathes in, then out, trying to make his voice normal again, trying to get rid of this part of it which he doesn’t understand fully. “Wait.”

A couple passes by, eyeing them curiously, but Tsukishima doesn’t care.

Yamaguchi fixes his gaze on something near Tsukishima’s shoulders. For a second, the blonde hopes that maybe he’ll say something, just like he always does, just like he used to, but then realises that Yamaguchi’s not planning on doing that, most likely.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” he eventually forces out after a second, voice calm even though his heart seems to beat slightly too fast, “of what I said to you the last time we spoke. Now, because I won’t get the chance to clarify it in the nearest future.”

 _As you realise yourself_ , he wants to add, but then bites his tongue.

Another stranger walks by, muttering something under their breath and gazing at them suspiciously, and before he can think, he grabs Yamaguchi’s arm – trying to ignore him jerking at the touch – and hauls him into the nearest alley, one between two already closed shops.

Privacy is what he needs, he tells himself, but the movement gives him time to think about what to say, even if it’s just a few seconds, and that’s important, too.

Yamaguchi’s back meets the wall of the building with a quiet, barely audible thud. Tsukishima lets go of his arm.

“Listen,” he starts again. His throat is suddenly tight. He doesn’t really know what to say, but forces himself to go on anyway. “I know I said – “

“What do you want from me?”

He blinks.

Yamaguchi’s voice is weird, too silent and somehow dull. The sound of it makes Tsukishima’s frown deepen.

“What?”

“Just tell me. What is it that you want, what… what is the point of this?” There’s a pause. “Because I don’t know anymore,” Yamaguchi says, then swallows audibly, finally, _finally_ lifting his head.

There is... a weak smile on his lips and tears in his eyes and the sight suddenly makes Tsukishima’s heart _clench._

“I don’t know anything,” Yamaguchi continues after a second when Tsukishima doesn’t answer, abruptly unable to make any sound, but it seems like he didn’t expect him to anyway. “I don’t know what you think, I don’t know what you want, I… don’t even know what _I_ want.”

His voice cracks at the end of the sentence, and tears glimmer in his eyes, but he doesn’t give up, doesn't let them flow. It’s a confession he needs to make, Kei knows, because it’s high time, after all the silence and careful tiptoeing around the subject. He tries to remember the last time he saw Yamaguchi cry and realises he _can’t_.

“I don’t know how to act around you, or how to feel about you anymore – about all of this. Because at some point, I actually thought we… we had something, you know? Something, and whatever it was, it was enough.” He grips the fabric of his jacket and then, a second later, the tears actually start streaming down Yamaguchi’s cheeks - the first one followed by another and another. He wipes them away, though, quickly, almost angrily, even if it doesn’t make them stop at all. “But now we’re not even friends, you said it yourself, and I don’t know if I should still call you “Tsukki” or “Tsukishima” or – “

His voice breaks, and then there’s a sob escaping him.

Tsukishima can’t as much as _move_.

Yamaguchi’s always called him _Tsukki_. It was just what he did, simple and natural, and it was okay – more than that, because he’s always been the only one actually allowed to do so. Kei used to pretend to be annoyed with that, sometimes, but truth be told, he’s come to accept it. Appreciate it, maybe.

That’s why the sound of his name – full name – suddenly sounds… wrong. It’ weird and disturbing and inappropriate, everything but _right._ He grits his teeth before he can get a hold of himself, realising that he is, in fact, nearly _scared_. The fear creeps its way under his skin and into his mind; for a second, it’s simply overwhelming.

So he just watches, mind blank, as Yamaguchi bites his lip, then wipes the tears away with the sleeve of his jacket since his trembling fingers can’t do the job well enough. It is a fruitless action, again, because Tsukishima knows – when Yamaguchi starts crying, it’s as if a dam’s been broken. The tears roll down his cheeks, barely visible in the poor light, but Kei knows they’re still _there_.

His chest constricts.

“I just _don’t know_ ,” Yamaguchi speaks again, repeats the words, and it sounds powerless, drained, “because it all would be better if I just let you go, but I can’t, even though I understand that you’d only been coming to the shop because of feeling guilty and responsible, I get it, really, and…”

There’s a shaky exhale as the boy desperately tries to steady himself, to pull himself together.

“I should’ve gotten over you _years_ ago,” he says, this time looking Kei straight in the eye, and he looks _defeated_ , eyes red, cheeks damp. “So why can’t I let you go? What the hell is wrong with me?”

And Tsukishima wants to say something -  _this is not why I'd been coming, it's not true, there's nothing wrong with you_ \- has to, right now, but his mind is empty. There’s nothing he could do to fix it, he thinks for a second, nothing can fix it, it’s too big of a damage.

But then he sees, his gaze still fixed on Yamaguchi, that the boy’s looking up at him, still, a sobbing mess, and his words flash in his mind again, almost audible, an echo in his head – _I should’ve gotten over you years ago_ – and that’s when he _understands_.

This is what makes him move, an urge he can’t explain.

So before he can as much as think, Tsukishima leans in and kisses him.

It’s an impulse and it’s not romantic – there’s _nothing_ romantic about it. It’s freezing cold here outside, too dark, and Yamaguchi’s still trembling, but when Tsukishima presses his lips to his, it suddenly doesn’t matter. For a moment, Yamaguchi doesn’t move at all, and Kei feels his own heart clenching weirdly.

But then, abruptly, after three or four dreadful seconds, he’s kissing back, opening his mouth, and Tsukishima’s overwhelmed with just how desperate it is. He licks the boy’s bottom lip and then deepens the kiss as Yamaguchi’s cold fingers trace hesitant, slightly tremulous ways up his neck to his hair. It sends shivers down Kei’s spine; he pulls Yamaguchi closer, can feel his shaky breath on his skin and the heat of his lips and it’s _good_.

It is not Tsukishima’s first kiss – he has done it before. The first time was back in high school, with one of the girls who confessed to him; he didn’t really like her because she was too eager and flustered and weirdly tall, nearly as tall as him. The whole situation turned out rather awkwardly – he couldn’t really kiss and she neither because they were both just teenagers, pointlessly curious, and it quickly transpired that kissing, something everyone was so excited about, was just pretty plain. He didn’t feel different in any way.

He remembers how surprised Yamaguchi seemed to be when he first got to know - _You kissed her?_ – and how something about his demeanor was off when Tsukishima started to fleer.

That was it, though. The first kiss turned out pretty disappointing and the next ones, sometime later, weren’t really better, plainly physical, boring, even.

And it’s not Yamaguchi’s first kiss, either – he can tell by the way the boy’s tilting his head and opening his mouth, the way he gasps. Someone has kissed Yamaguchi before, someone Tsukishima doesn’t know and the thought makes him weirdly restless, but only for a second because it doesn’t matter anymore, not now.

There shouldn’t be anything new about this. It should be as boring as always.

It feels like something completely unknown before, though – Kei has never felt this desperate, has never pulled anyone this close. His hands are on Yamaguchi’s waist before he knows it, and the boy involuntarily grips the fabric of his coat. It feels new, the heat in his chest and cheeks, this salty taste on his lips because of Yamaguchi’s tears.

When they part, Yamaguchi’s blushing, his breathing accelerated. He looks at Kei like it’s the first time he’s seen him in his whole life, but something in his eyes is unclear at the same time.

“Tsukki, what – “ he starts, but his voice turns out to be so shaky that it just breaks and fails.

He doesn’t know what Yamaguchi wants to say because his heart is suddenly beating too fast and he can’t really focus – it can be “What are you doing?”, followed by a sharp push, or maybe a naïve “What does it mean?” asked in a hesitant tone. He doesn’t know, but then Yamaguchi peers up at him, confused, a question in his eyes, and everything becomes obvious all of a sudden.

“This,” he says, his gaze fixed on Yamaguchi’s wide eyes, hoping he’ll understand everything he tries to convey through these words, “is why I had been coming to the shop.”

The boy parts his lips for a second, but then something glints in his eyes, something Tsukishima doesn’t quite catch and –

When Yamaguchi smiles – a tiny smile, but one that is all hope and warmth and _just for him_   – Kei breathes in, his chest swelling with something he finally, finally recognises.

He kisses Yamaguchi again, and it feels like coming home.

It’s not a movie, though, or a book. The happy ending they get is not all flowers and rainbows, although it _is_ a happy ending nevertheless.

The next day comes too soon, the morning crisp and cold, and Tsukishima still goes to the train station, because he still can’t stay, no matter how much he wants to. He and Yamaguchi will end up in different places again, won’t see each other for a long time, and he knows that – accepts that – but hates it all the same.

Yamaguchi says it’s okay, though.

“Don’t worry, Tsukki”, he says, his fingers curling around Kei’s hand in a display of affection, the sensation still fresh, excitingly new as they wait for the train to come. “We can make it. We will make it, I promise.”

He smiles up at him, encouragingly, knowing his thoughts even without him saying anything, and Tsukishima can’t help but kiss the smile off his lips when no one’s looking in their direction.

He wishes he could stay like that, with Yamaguchi’s hand finally in his own, but he can’t. The train comes, they say their goodbyes, and Tsukishima goes, carrying his suitcase along.

For a moment, it’s hard.

He dives back into the atmosphere of the big city as soon as he gets off the platform, and even sending a text – _“Tokyo”_ – to Yamaguchi feels surreal, strange. He gets back to his apartment, cold and empty, draws the curtains back, unpacks his suitcase, calls his mother to let her know that he’s okay.

But then, Yamaguchi’s number lights up on the screen of his phone, and as he picks up, he feels like he can breathe again.

They talk and text, Tsukishima between and during lectures, Yamaguchi at work, and get on Skype as often as they can. Kei tells him about the things he has to learn for the next exam, Yamaguchi about anything he considers worth mentioning – like meeting Kei’s mother on the street one day, the way she smiled brightly at him  muttering “ _I knew it_ ” under her breath – at which Tsukishima just rolls his eyes, scoffing.

It’s difficult at times, to stay in a relationship like this, but they learn.

One day, Yamaguchi comes to visit him, stays over a couple of days before heading back, and suddenly Tokyo becomes a little nicer of a place. Tsukishima goes back to their hometown for Christmas; Yamaguchi visits him in Tokyo in February, then in March, in May.

“Of course not. You’re worth it,” he says over the phone when Tsukishima asks him if it’s not too tiring one day, “We promised we would make it work, didn’t we, Tsukki?”

They did. It was a decision neither of them regrets making, so they learn and strain and try and they _work_.

It’s when Tsukishima’s about to graduate when Yamaguchi tells him, sounding happier than he’s heard him in a while – _My dad’s going back to work, Tsukki, the doctors say that there’s nothing to worry about anymore, it’s all going back to normal_ – and Kei reminds him, voice low, just a bit hesitant, a part of him wondering if it’s not too soon, that he already has the key to the blonde’s apartment, in case he’d like to make a use out of it on a daily basis.

The way Yamaguchi looks up at him then, eyes wide with disbelief and warm with happiness, is enough of an answer for him.

So after a while, they move in together.

It’s not always easy. The happy ending they get is happy indeed, but it is not the far-fetched, romantic comedy type. They still fight over stupid things sometimes, like paying the bills or doing the shopping. Yamaguchi’s still worried about his parents, and Tsukishima doesn’t get enough sleep because of the crippling amount of responsibilities that graduation entails.

So it takes them a while until they manage to settle everything down.

But eventually, they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first of all, I wanted to thank everyone who read this story; everyone who left kudos, bookmarked or commented. It may not seem like much, and I know I keep repeating that, but only because it's true - this story wouldn't exist if it wasn't for you, guys. I would've given up a long time ago, really, and I didn't. There was always something that made me keep writing, so, again, thank you.  
> Secondly, I'm actually thinking about writing an epilogue? (or two, because I don't like numer 13 and I want to write both of their POV again. Also, they deserve a little more happiness than just half a chapter, so yeah.) Do you think it's a good idea or not really? I don't know, I feel conflicted ╮(╯▽╰)╭ Let me know!
> 
>  
> 
> I'll see you later, I hope!


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that's it, guys.  
> This chapter really is the last one. The previous one didn't really feel like a proper closure, but for me, this one does. It made me feel many, many things.  
> Thank you again, it was an amazing journey - writing this story. I couldn't imagine more perfect readers than you, so I'll say it one more time since I can't really say it enough - thank you. You're all amazing, please don't ever change, whoever you are and wherever you come from.  
> My God, it feels like some part of my life just ended, I'm going to cry...  
> I hope you'll enjoy.
> 
> (You can think of it as a Christmas gift from me <3 )
> 
> And if you want to cry over these dorks with me some more, feel free to come say hi on [tumblr](http://angstandcats.tumblr.com)

 

 

It’s a rather normal day.

Yamaguchi wakes up before his alarm clock goes off – he’s used to getting up early and can’t force himself to sleep more than six hours, really. The apartment is quiet, calm, the atmosphere of a lazy morning perceptible in the air. He yawns, rubs his eyes and then stretches, sitting up.

He’s alone, he notices, looking around and taking in the sight – a few pieces of clothing left here and there on the floor, messy; curtains not completely drawn, sunlight creeping its way into the room. If he listened closely, he could hear the low rumble of cars outside, the rush of the crowd, the sounds of the city as it awakes. There are days when he actually gives in and simply stays in bed a little longer, appreciating the fact that he actually _can_ do that – observe the light filling the bedroom, wait until his neighbour’s alarm clock rings because the wall of this building are way too thin and he can hear it even if he doesn’t mean to.

Today, he doesn’t do any of that.

Tadashi rubs his eyes, trying to get rid of any remains of drowsiness and holding back a yawn as he gets out of bed. The door creaks silently when he opens it, then leaving it ajar.

 Just as he expected, he finds Tsukishima in the kitchen. He’s sitting at the table, holding a mug full of black coffee just as he does every morning, only this time he’s not reading a newspaper or listening to music or anything. He’s just sitting there, staring down at his drink, and something in Tadashi’s chest swells.

The blonde only notices him when he greets him with a slight smile, still a little bit sleepily. He quickly reaches for his phone, putting the coffee down and pretending to check something, fumbling with the device. Yamaguchi lets it slip as he comes up to the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee, too – Tsukki always makes a whole pot when he gets up first. He adds three teaspoons of sugar, then stirs, and only speaks when he’s done, turning to look at Tsukishima and taking a sip of his drink.

“Couldn’t sleep, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima lifts his gaze to look at him, then peers back down at his phone, at whatever he’s doing there.

“I just don’t want to be late,” he answers.

Yamaguchi runs a hand through his already impossibly messy hair, slightly tilting his head.

“Oh, right,” he hums, pretending to remember just now even though he’s aware Tsukki can see right through it, “First day at a real job, huh?”

Tsukishima shoots him a glare at that, but there’s something soft about it that makes Yamaguchi’s smile wider. _A success_ , he decides.

It’s mostly meant to be a joke, a help when it comes to getting rid of the tension hanging in the air, and he’s glad it worked, at the same time, though, he can’t help but feel… just a tiny bit sympathetic.

It’s been a long time since he had his very first day at a job of any sort – whether it was back in his hometown or here in Tokyo – but he supposes it’s a feeling that doesn’t ever fade away, a thing that can’t be really forgotten. It’s big and significant and _impossibly_ stressful; he couldn’t sleep the night before when it was his turn, he recalls. And it was nothing strange when it comes to him – he’s always been the one to feel overwhelmed, to overanalyse things and come up with the strangest possible scenarios. Seeing Tsukki like that, though  – visibly stressed, uptight – is… unusual.

Yamaguchi takes another sip of his coffee, then sets the mug on the counter with a silent clang.

Tsukki has nothing to worry about, though. He graduated for university at the top of his class; has always been extraordinarily intelligent, as a child, as a teenager, as an adult; he’s smart, talented, ridiculously handsome. Everybody’s going to acknowledge it in no time, Tadashi knows.

Tsukishima seems like he doesn’t, though, fumbling with his phone again, trying to distract himself, and it occurs to Yamaguchi that he doesn’t really get to see him like this a lot. Tsukki’s always confident, sure, steady – it’s something Tadashi truly admires about him– so usually, he doesn’t need any help; any reassurances, any compliments.

 He might need some right now, though.

Yamaguchi smiles a tiny, private smile.

“Nervous?” he speaks, then moves and reaches Tsukishima in three quick steps – their kitchen is that tiny. The word sound like a question, but the both already know the answer.

The blonde merely shrugs, adjusting his glasses. He finishes his coffee, then sets the cup on the table.

And suddenly, something warm blooms behind Tadashi’s sternum, even though the sight is nothing strange. There’s still something new and fresh about living with Tsukki, but it’s getting more and more ordinary every day. They managed to come up with a routine, even – Tsukki always makes coffee in the mornings and washes the dishes after dinner; Tadashi makes pancakes every Friday and does the shopping when he has the afternoon shift at the bookstore. They sleep in on Saturdays and clean around the house later; order in on Sundays. It’s simple; it’s easy.

This feeling in his chest  – Tadashi pinpoints it as _love_.

“Tsukki,” he says, and it makes the blonde actually put his phone away at last and finally look at him longer than just for a second because Tadashi’s voice comes out soft and warm, probably a bit different than what he expected, “you’re going to do great. Don’t worry.”

He pushes up and sits on the edge of the table, not bothering to use a chair because that’s the only way he can look Tsukki in the face.

“I’m not – “ the blonde starts, then stops, realising they both know the truth anyway. He runs a hand through his hair in a stressed gesture.

“You were born for this job,” Yamaguchi says because it’s true. Tsukishima’s going to be one of the greatest doctors in Tokyo in no time at all, he can feel it in his bones. “Everyone will love you as soon as they lay their eyes on you.”

Tsukki snorts.

“No, they won’t,” he refuses, shooting Yamaguchi sceptical look.

He shrugs innocently.

“Well, _I_ would.”

And at first, Tsukki doesn’t do anything, just looks at him without as much as blinking. A thought runs through Yamaguchi’s head – for a second, he wonders if maybe the blonde’s about to sneer at him for saying such clichéd things so early in the morning. He blushes slightly despite himself and considers forcing a giggle, maybe a quick excuse – _I’m just joking, Tsukki!_ – but then he realises he doesn’t really need to.

Something flickers in Tsukki’s brown eyes, makes his gaze suddenly warm and gentle behind his glasses, and Yamaguchi smiles.

“You’ll be fantastic,” he says as he blonde stands up. Yamaguchi expect him to nod or roll his eyes as a thank you, and that would be more than okay because that’s who Tsukki is and that’s just how he acts.

It’s not what he does now, though.

The blonde seems to take in the sight of him for a second – it gets to Yamaguchi that he must look as messy as it possibly gets, in his crumpled t-shirt and with dishevelled hair, especially compared to Tsukishima, who’s all tall and neat and graceful. The thought makes him slightly uneasy and he automatically looks down, a little bit embarrassed all of a sudden. He wants to say something again, just to get rid of the silence, and even opens his mouth –

Just when Tsukki puts a finger under his chin, tilting his head up, and kisses him.

It’s a long kiss, albeit still slow and easy. Tadashi freezes for a second before closing his eyes and melting into it, kissing back, still not quite used to the sensation. In the back of his head he wonders if he ever will get used to it; Tsukishima’s lips are warm against his and he tastes like coffee, his fingers brushing the line of his jaw. Yamaguchi plays with the hair at the nape of Tsukki’s neck, relaxing.

 _You’re welcome_ , he thinks.

“Okay,” he says when they part, letting go of the blonde, suddenly a lot more comfortable with the way he looks at the moment; Tsukki doesn’t mind, so he shouldn’t as well. “I think you should get going if you don’t want to be late, Tsukki.”

He can feel his gaze on his lips before Tsukishima eventually nods, peering at the clock on the wall with a sigh.

“Yeah,” he says, the word sounding like an exhale, and moves.

Yamaguchi doesn’t change his location, still sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, watching the blonde as he puts his shoes and coat on, gathers all the things he needs, comes back to the room to grab his cell phone. Tadashi wishes him good luck, even though he finds he won’t need much of it. Tsukki just looks at him, the mysterious warmth still present in the way his eyes glint. He vanishes in the hallway, muttering something under his breath and the next thing Yamaguchi hears is the sound of front door opening, then closing.

And then it strikes him that maybe _this_ is all he really needs. He’s never been a picky person, never expected much, always able to adjust. He knows that what he has is not much – he works in a little bookstore in a city he doesn’t fully know yet, lives in a tiny apartment with walls too thin and rooms not big enough – but it’s… It’s good. It’s all he needs, and even though some would say he barely owns anything, he feels like he owns the whole world.

He has Tsukishima Kei. He has the mornings and the evenings together, dinners and breakfasts, waking up and falling asleep beside him. He has their shared clothes, two toothbrushes in one cup on the bathroom sink. He has cuddling under the blankets on Saturdays and all the kisses in the world – desperate and hungry or slow and easy, quick or lazy, slow, expected and sudden.

He has a heart full of love, and the thought makes him blush a little as he hops off the table and walks into the narrow hallway, as he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror that hangs there.

His hair is a mess and clothes are crumpled and there’s a huge, joyful grin on his face.

It can’t be helped, though, so he just blinks at his reflection and beams again. Yamaguchi Tadashi is in love - has been for a while - and he’s finally, eventually gotten where he’d always wanted to be. He has all the time in the world to be with the person he feels truly right with. At last, it’s his turn to be happy. It’s _their_ turn to be.

And when he realises that he has his whole life ahead of him, whole lifetime to experience all these things – the domesticity, the closeness,  _being together_ – he just…

He can’t wait.


End file.
